


Through the Ages

by LadyBlack3



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 17:37:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18145340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBlack3/pseuds/LadyBlack3
Summary: Hermione's life after the war was everything she wished it to be, though she does miss he best friend from time to time. When a deadly disease begins killing dragons at the Romanian reserve, she embarks on a journey of renewed acquaintances, new and old friendships, and just may even save some majestic magical creatures. HG/BW





	1. Chapter 1

**AN: Dear all, I'm very happy to say that I've been working on this story while posting ' _The Sun, The Moon, and The Star'_! And am very pleased to be able to share this work that took many months to write. I started this story with an idea about 6 or 7 months ago but suddenly had a writing dry spell and decided to shelve it until it felt right to develop and write properly. And here we are, written in two month in between a crazy work load and illness, but finally complete and ready for your viewing. **

**I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it, and hopefully I may look forward to your reviews 3 Posts will be weekly, as always!**

**Love,**

**Genevieve**

* * *

**October 2004**

"Thanks Gin, they look great. I'm glad the whole grunge look is over, I don't suit the black velvet and choker look," Hermione mused as she observed her lovely new peach manicure and pedicure.

"Just don't follow this new trend. All of these women have such thin eyebrows!" Ginny mused, flicking through a copy of Vanity Fair.

"Doesn't sound like me, but I like the new fruity lip glosses you can get it in the muggle cosmetic shops," Hermione smiled, her own lips displaying a little bit of the shine. Her hair was still up, soaking up the hair mask goodness while she sipped her cup of tea.

"Ah right, the Shoes place," Ginny looked up briefly.

Hermione chuckled. "Boots, not Shoes," she corrected but knew it fell on deaf ear as Ginny found the quiz at the back of the magazine and began filling it in.

Hermione enjoyed having these Sunday afternoons with Ginny, just getting together once a fortnight, ordering take out and treating themselves to some pampering. With their busy schedules, it wasn't easy to catch each other and she could always count on Ginny's advice for beauty tips and as a shopping buddy.

Ginny has really grown into herself after the war and became a well-respected journalist. She started out with sports commentary, worked her way up to muggle-relations reporting from the world and now she was back in England as the editor-in-chief for the well-received wizarding newspaper, The Daily Digest. It swiftly replaced the Prophet after Rita Skeeter was put on trial for her many crimes, including her unregistered animagus status and slander amongst many other. Her imprisonment cost the Prophet its reputation, and the sanctions for printing her articles led to the newspaper closing down due to bankruptcy by Christmas of 1998. Seeing the opportunity to replace it, The Daily Digest became the number one daily newspaper in Wizarding Britain. Hermione couldn't be happier for her best friend and her success, though she did sometimes worry for Ginny. Her job was very demanding and left little time for family and relationships. And while the redhead was contented in her single status for the most part, Hermione could see sometimes that she had her lonely days.

A somewhat messy plait or bun of fiery locks and a pair of fashionable glasses were the redhead's daily staple these days and today was no exception. Though no one would suspect she was one of British wizarding fashion icons in her old grey joggers and a t-shirt that boasted 'Chasers do it better' that had at least 3 holes in it. Hermione looked no more put together in her plaid pyjamas, sleeves rolled up to the elbow and hair wrapped in a towel. Being able to be comfortable around each other went way back to their days at Hogwarts, and their pyjama afternoons were both their favourite time out of the public eye.

The media has been crazy lately, despite the war ending nearly six years ago. Luna's Quibbler and Ginny's Digest were about the only two newspapers in the whole of wizarding Britain that were not obsessively observing the lives of the golden trio. It was reaching the level of ridiculous, including speculations about her love life and dragging up all her past flings, or discussing what she was wearing on a daily basis. She once sat down for coffee and someone left the Young Witch magazine on her table, leading her to a discovery of their five-page spread on 'How to dress like Hermione Granger'. She was mortified, and while admittedly she has learnt a few things about style and fashion over the years, it was ridiculous to even contemplate someone wanting to dress like her instead of wearing whatever suited their body and style best.

It was also thanks to these magazines though that she found out what was going on with Harry and Ronald. As she did not visit the Burrow these days, she knew little of its occupants other than what she read and what Ginny occasionally mentioned. After the final battle, Ron admitted his feelings for her but for Hermione the kiss in the heat of he battle only proved that it was too little too late. She genuinely was in love with him once, but those feelings were long gone. Their months of camping, Ron's jealousy and the way he abandoned them only showed her that this was not the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. In a fit of anger he called her a frigid harpy and that was that, no more words passed between them for the past 6 years. The magazines periodically informed her of his performance as the keeper for the Chudley Cannons, and his flings with many a fan. Honestly, she was glad she dodged that bullet.

Harry remained a good friend but they rarely saw each other these days. After the war he stuck around for a bit and tried to live a normal life for a change, but the media was relentless, and the pressure from the Ministry and various quidditch reps was too much. So one day he sorted out his affairs and inheritance, and just left. All Hermione had of him was a single letter to say he would always love her, his best friend, his sister, but he had to take time to figure out what he wanted from life. That was five years ago and since then he wrote twice a year for them to catch up on their lives, and visited twice in all the time, on her 20th birthday and the Christmas of 2002. The newspapers knew he was somewhere out there, traveling, and some of the magazines had a running bet on where he would be sighted next at all times. The last time he was spotted was 7 months ago in the US, the British media reporting based on an American article with a photo of Harry in the New York version of Diagon Alley.

Hermione remembered cutting the article and the photo out of the magazine and folding it neatly into the memory box she was keeping in an inconspicuous shoe box in her closet. Many wizards preferred to store their memories in a pensieve, or writing in magical journals to remember everything and infusing the writing with how the memory felt. Hermione preferred a much more muggle way, keeping tickets, receipts, postcards, birthday cards and other small bits in the box that she sometimes opened and revisited to remember. Sadly, with Harry keeping in touch so rarely, the odd article she got at least let her know that he was safe and sound.

"You're missing him again," Ginny observed, apparently done with her quiz.

Hermione shrugged. "He was my only best friend. And I don't have many friends, not to mention close ones. Ignore me, it's just ennui," she said before getting up to wash her hair.

Once it was washed and carefully dried section by section, they cleared the table and Ginny heated up some of the stew from the large pot sitting on her stove. They made plans to catch a muggle movie in a couple of weeks before Hermione gathered her shoulder bag and flooed back to her dark flat. She shuddered at the chill and built a sturdy fire in the fireplace to heat the space up and bring in some light. One of the pillows on the sofa moved and a fluffy head poked out at the change in temperature, sleepy eyes blinking up at her.

"Well hello there," she sat down next to the pillow and lifted it up to reveal her familiar. Apollo was one of the part-kneazle and part-maine coon kittens that she managed to help from a box by a bin near her home and into a shelter. Kittens were often adopted very quickly so she knew they would have a good chance. But this little one wouldn't leave her. He just walked over to her in that uncoordinated way of a 3 month old kitten and sat down in front of her, staring her in the eyes as a soft purr rose in his chest. Hermione took it as a sign and adopted him on the spot. He was now one year old and a handsome, intelligent boy. Crookshanks would always remain her first and most beloved familiar, but the old boy died two years after the war due to old age. Hermione sometimes believed he held on long enough to make sure Pettigrew was punished and she was happy before relinquishing his guard. Having Apollo in her life has made it much more fun, and they proved to be inseparable over the past few months.

"How is my handsome little man?" she asked as she caressed his fluffy belly, the beautiful light grey coat shiny with health.

"Prrrawr," he replied, his bushy tail flicking as he got up to stretch.

"Good, are you hungry? I have some delicious tuna for you," she smiled, rubbing that one spot above his tail that he did not object to being scratched.

He stretched each leg out individually before climbing up on her legs and head-butting her chin.

She chuckled and cradled him in her arms. "I take it you like the idea," she smiled as she carried him into the kitchen to feed him.

Sunday nights were never late, she always ended up in bed with a cup of tea, a couple of digestive biscuits and a book. That night she fell asleep early while reading, with Apollo happily curled up in her arms, purring after she covered him up with the blanket and let him settle down with her. There was the occasional nightmare but most nights she would go without dreaming. Except for the dreams she could never quite explain. They were hazy, strange, and set in different times, but she was always a part of them and felt like she belonged. Ever since her birthday last month though, she's already had four of them and they were getting more strange than ever.

_She hummed to herself as she spread the seeds to feed the chickens, glad the chicks were growing so nicely. Come winter they will need the eggs and the meat of the occasional lame one to tide them through. The cow has cost them too much coin already but they would be provided for. Dorothea, the neighbours' youngest daughter waved at her from across the road and she smiled, waving back. The little girl looked a bit better, the salve was helping with the burn on her cheek. Which reminded her, she needed to brew some more later that day if they were to have enough stock for the village while the herbs lasted._

_A pair of strong scarred arms wrapped around her waist, a thick leather band tied around one of the sturdy wrist, bearing a familiar coat of arms. "Greetings, wife. How farest thou?"_

The question rumbled in her ear still as she woke up suddenly, causing Apollo to stir and meow grudgingly. She could still feel those warm, chapped lips brushing her ear lobe, and her nose crinkled slightly at the smell of livestock and autumnal leaf decay. It was the most vivid dream she's had so far, leaving her to contemplate why these dreams were happening until her alarm went off at five.


	2. Chapter 2

After a quick shower, Hermione dressed warmly against the autumnal chill and picked Apollo up to apparate safely. Most animals did not do well with apparition but as Apollo was partly magical and a familiar, he was okay as long as she was the one apparating him.

"Prrrawr," he complained loudly. Not only did his human wake him up in the night, she then woke him ridiculously early an hour ago and now it was too cold. Disgraceful.

Hermione huffed, shivering slightly under her heavy cloak. "If you didn't squirm so much, I would have the door opened sooner, grumpy-puss," she said as she took down the wards and searched for her keys.

Diagon Alley was still quiet at this hour but it would soon become busy with the early Ministry employees rushing in and out, so she enjoyed the few moments of peace that were left. Once inside, she set Apollo down and watched him slink over to the fireplace. The wood was stacked neatly since Saturday, but currently lifeless. He looked at it in displeasure for a moment, as only cats ever managed to do, and then hacked up a loud sneeze. A small ball of fire hit the wood stack and it burst into magical flame, instantly beginning to warm the room. Now pleased, Apollo curled up on the small rug in front of it and closed his eyes contentedly. Hermione rolled her eyes at his antics but cast a few warming charms, glad that he was so comfortable in the shop.

Just as she was sorting out the mail and starting the coffee machine, the door opened and closed again, a shuddering form with emerald green hair bustled in. "Morning! It's a chilly one today, isn't it? How was your weekend?" Grace managed to ask in one breath while taking off her heavy cloak to reveal washed out jeans and a bright orange sweater. She was quirky and bubbly, straight out of Hogwarts and trying to save up for a couple of years to go traveling the world with her boyfriend. And Hermione was happy to give her the chance to do so.

"It was good, thanks. How was yours? How is Arch?" she asked as she checked a few of the bills and requests over.

"He's good, though his shifts at the hospital are crazy right now," Grace said while making smooth but strong flat whites for them. Every Monday morning they had a quick catch up to see if there was anything in the front of the shop that needed to be ordered or improved.

Enchanted Book & Tearoom was more than what may appear at first glance. Flourish and Blotts were an excellent book and stationary shop but they catered mostly to the magical culture. Hermione thought there was a market for muggle books, both non-fiction and fiction of course, as well as the amazing range of muggle stationary that may be more ordinary than the wizarding one but still beautiful and more familiar for those who were muggleborn. So she filled the shelves and set up a small reading corner for those who wanted to stay and have a cup of tea or coffee with their book. That was merely the front of the house. Hermione trusted Grace to handle everything that needed to go with it while she focused on the accounting, orders, and her own niche market. Her reputation as the best resourced British book collector, restorer and provider of rare magical and muggle books grew very quickly. She loved special requests, took great joy in restoring aged tomes that smelled like history and dust, and did a special mail order if needed throughout the whole of Europe. Acquiring these texts sometimes required traveling as well, which in her mind was an added bonus. The front of the shop was the steady income, her niche market was her passion and provided another extra income that let her invest even better than she already was. Though at the rate they were going, she may need a secretary soon.

They settled down at one of the tables and Hermione opened her folder to look over the accounts summary. "I have to say the tea and coffee corner adds a nice touch to the shop and despite the fact that we had to invest initially I can see how popular it is through the profits. We already nearly covered the initial investment," Hermione praised, glad to see Grace was handling her role well.

The green-haired witch picked up one of the sticky notes she kept with comments for their meeting and handed it over. "This is how many times I had to pop out to get some tea or milk though. I think what we need is to hire another member of staff. They can deal with the customers and making drinks while I look after the shelves. I love this job, don't get me wrong, but I don't get to restock the shelves sometimes because we get too busy. Do you think it's just the season or is business growing?" she asked in her straightforward manner, knowing Hermione didn't mind sharing the information honestly.

"We've been growing. I have more requests now and will need to travel a bit more sometimes as well," Hermione admitted, looking at the numbers and nodding. "If I were to offer you the position of the front of the shop manager, ask you to help with the accounts and increased your wages to two galleons an hour, would you accept?" she asked, knowing she chose well in Grace.

And as she expected, the young witch positively beamed. "I would love to! Do we have enough in the budget to hire additional staff? Just one for now to help with the till or with restocking?" she suggested, hoping to get someone to help and be a good company.

Hermione smiled and nodded. "I'll draft a description and figure out what we can offer in terms of salary and let you handle the advertising," she agreed. "And I'll draw up a new contract for you to sign when you're ready."

"Thanks, boss," Grace grinned and handed over another sticky note. "That's what we made on tips, and the smaller number is the number of donations in the used book section. We have some interesting ones but no oldies for you,"

"Thanks, I'll have a browse in a bit. I'm still hoping for another gem like that beautiful print of Madam Bovary," Hermione mused before returning to their meeting agenda. "Just to let you know, I'm still finalising paperwork from my trip to Sweden, so I'll need a couple of days of no interruptions. So unless it's absolutely necessary, I'll need to be undisturbed," she explained.

"Got it. Do you want me to bring you some lunch and tea around half twelve as usual?" Grace asked while she subconsciously doodled on one of her sticky notes.

"That would be great, thanks. Do you mind keeping an eye on Apollo as well? Too much dust makes him sneeze," Hermione smiled fondly at the snoozing bundle of fur in front of the fire place.

"Sure thing. Also, these need to be purchased. We're nearly our of napkins and this stationery, I've added them onto the bottom of the list for the muggle supermarket," she indicated to the scribbles at the bottom of the page. Her handwriting wasn't the neatest Hermione ever saw, but after reading other people's writing and different types of print for years, she had no problem making it out.

"I'll take care of it," she promised and got up, heading upstairs to her part of the shop after depositing the empty cup in the sink.

She touched the smooth wood of the door to her studio and let her magical signature lower the wards. The space above the shop used to be a small flat for the owner. Hermione had it converted to an open plan studio with a book repair station, shelving for materials and potions that she needed for book upkeep, and a brewing station for her own potions. There was a small shelved area with books that she found and kept after repairing for her personal library, and the windowsill was magically enlarged and hosted a comfortable cushion so she could curl up and rest her mind during lunch break. Her desk for accounts and correspondence rested close by the window to make most of the natural light coming in through the large window as well.

There were already a few packages by the fireplace, delivered through floo mail, a new feature in the delivery industry that she was very grateful for. It was much quicker and safer than sending off owls with large packages in this kind of weather. It took her a couple of hours just to sort through everything that arrived that weekend and prepare letters to be delivered to those who sent a request. She was just getting ready to finalise her report on her Sweden travels when there was a knock on the door. Startled she found a slightly flustered Grace standing there.

"Customer, says he urgently needs your expertise and services. I need to get back to the orders, it's a busy morning," she said in a hurry.

"That's fine, go. I'll see who it is," Hermione sent her off and closed the folder before heading downstairs.

To her great surprise she found a very familiar redhead waiting for her by the counter. "Bill? What are you doing here?" she asked in utter surprise. It has been nearly two years since she last saw him at one of Ginny's New Year party.

Bill looked up in surprise at the familiar voice as well. "Hermione? You're the owner and specialist?" he asked, baffled but clearly amused at the situation.

To be honest he nearly didn't recognise her, the last few years have done her a lot of good. Her wild curls were shiny with health and untamed as ever, there was a healthy rosy tint to her cheeks, and her curves have filled out nicely. She looked very professional but also warm in the long sleeve burgundy wrap dress and knee-high boots. And despite the overwhelming aromas of books, tea and coffee, he picked up her familiar scent, hibiscus mixed with bergamot and old books.

Hermione smiled and returned a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. "That would be me. You are here on business I presume?" she asked, seeing the large folder under Bill's arm. They rarely caught up but they were on friendly basis and she always enjoyed talking to Bill when they found themselves in the same company.

They spent a lot of time discussing Egypt, Gringotts, runes, and curse breaking in the summer months near the end of the second Wizarding war, and always caught up when they bumped into each other through Ginny's parties or at the twins' shop which she occasionally visited for tea. He was great company and she was surprised not to have heard more about him from Ginny.

"I am. Can we go talk somewhere more private?" he asked, the shop getting busy now.

Hermione nodded and seeing how busy Grace was prepared them a pot of earl grey herself, before leading the way to her studio. She sat down at her desk and offered Bill the seat across from her as she took out an inquiry form to fill in while they talked. "How have you been, Bill?" she asked, seeing how well he looked.

Most would not consider the man classically handsome, and a lot of people still stared at the three pink scars across his cheek as she last remembered. In her mind she couldn't see him without the scarring anymore, considering them a part of the man's visage. He still had that handsome smile, piercing green gaze, and the slightly rugged long-haired look, though the fang earring was gone and replaced with a simpler small thin gold hoop. He appeared to be in full business mode, judging by the waistcoat and the elegant but practical travel topcoat.

Bill sat back in his chair and regarded her with those vibrant eyes. "I've been busy the last couple of years, I don't work for Gringotts anymore," he explained. "Instead, I work privately as a curse-breaker, with a silent business partner who does some detective work. We travel the world where the cases take us."

"That sounds like a dream job for you, I remember you like traveling. I do a fair share of it myself for some rare tomes, and I must say it is refreshing to pack a duffel bag and take a portkey at a moment's notices," she offered sincerely while she quickly twisted her wild curls into a bun and stuck her wand in to keep it in place and out of her face. "Does Fleur travel with you or is she busy? Do you still live in Cornwall?" she asked, the memories of the cottage not in her fond memory bank due to visiting it at a difficult time in the war.

Bill looked surprised for a moment. "I guess you wouldn't have heard. We have been divorced for over a year now. I live in Wales these days," he explained.

Hermione looked up in surprise. "I'm sorry, Ginny didn't mention anything," she admitted.

"That's because my little sister hasn't been to the Burrow to hear my mother's opinion on the topic," Bill replied in good humour but she could see it was not a happy topic.

"That may be why," she agreed lightly before turning the catch up into business gracefully. "So what can I do for you today, Bill?" she asked.

He handed over the file he has been holding earlier and nodded for her to flick through its contents. Hermione opened it curiously and found a list of tomes centred around dragon history and maladies. Wondering why they would need such a list, she continued to the next page which turned out to be a close up magical photograph of a weeping wound and rotting scales. The photograph captured the moment someone attempted to take a sample of the puss and the abscess burst and more puss spilled forth.

Bill watched her leaf through the photographs curiously. Everyone who had a look at the folder so far either cringed, winced, or said that having a warning would have been nice. The woman before him was calm and collected in the face of the graphic photographs. He could practically hear her brilliant mind working from across the table as she got up and walked over to a tall large table in the corner. She quickly put away her book binding tools and turned on the electric lamp overhead, spreading out the photographs to create a full picture of what they were looking at. "Do we know what it is? Flesh-eating, scale-eating, a rot that is bacterial or viral?" she asked, hoping to get a better understanding of the collage before her.

Bill walked to her side and accepted the offered tall stool as he looked at the way she organised the photos. Even without knowing what she was looking at, she managed to organise them in the four different stages of the illness. "We can't tell yet. Charlie raised the alarm when the first case occurred at his reserve in Romania, but it wasn't investigated properly despite the pressure he put on the leadership. Now they have eight dragons showing various stages of this…disease, whatever it is, and in quarantine, with the rest of the reserve under strict observation," he explained.

"Has this not happened any time recently? Have they done any tests?" Hermione asked curiously, this was very intriguing and also terrifying for the majestic magical creatures.

"They did a lot of tests, and they tried to get the opinion of just about every dragon scholar alive, but they can't identify it," he explained.

"And this list, who compiled it?" Hermione asked as she read it over. Some of these tomes were very rare and some she had never encountered before at all.

"We did some research and took suggestions from the scholars we talked to, but they can't access them. We were told it would be best to get in touch with someone who is a certified librarian or deals in old books. That's how we got a reference to your business so I thought I would stop by on my way from Gringotts and meet whoever runs this place," he motioned around them.

Hermione nodded and leaned back in her seat. "Whoever told you that was correct. Some of these tomes are fairly young, no older than 200 years, but you have a few that are at least 600 years old and one that is nearly 900 years old," she pointed to a long title on the page. "These require very careful handling and translation, which is something only someone who is a true librarian or a similarly skilled person can do," she explained.

"And you would be that person?" Bill asked as he studied her, realising he would actually like to get to see her work.

Hermione offered a small smile. "Either myself or I have a couple of contacts I can refer you to that are true librarians and would be able to work with you. But I do warn you, unless you find the answer in the first few tomes, it will take a while. This list is extensive and examining and translating these tomes can take a few weeks, not to mention finding a cure or whatever will be needed for this disease," she explained.

"I don't know if they have weeks," Bill motioned towards the dragons in the pictures.

Hermione shook her head. "Perhaps not but we don't know what we're up against. One way to shorten the time is to try and prioritise the books," she suggested and got up, taking down a large and heavy looking tome from the top of her filing cabinet.

"How? We can't tell which ones would be most relevant, can we?" Bill asked, wondering whether there was a potential pattern.

"I think it may be something medieval or older actually. The researchers and specialists you consulted are taught about the illnesses and practices that are recent or occur often. If it's not something that has come to the scholars' awareness, it wouldn't be new, and it wouldn't be in the newer tomes as a reference point. It could be something like the muggle pox. No one really gets it any more so most academics these days don't research them or learn about them in great length. It could be something that killed a lot of dragons 800 years ago and then never occurred until now. Thought that does raise a question of how and why it reappeared," she explained, seeing he could see where she was going with it. "Can I write in this?" she asked, picking up the list.

Bill nodded for her to go ahead and watched as she picked up a muggle fountain pen and began leafing through the large tome, making small notes next to the more than thirty items on the list. A few minutes later, she closed the cover of the book and turned the list towards Bill.

"The bad news is, we don't have access to three of the listed tomes, they are marked as destroyed and no other copy has survived or is known to us. The good news is, the rest of these are in Europe. Here in Britain, in France, Belgium, Switzerland, Austria, Czech Republic and Croatia. I know people who could help us sources them in most of these countries," Hermione promised.

"So you will help us?" Bill asked. "We have funds to hire a third party to investigate with us," he said but Hermione waved him off.

"I don't care about the salary on the cheque but I won't let magical creatures suffer if I can help find a cure for them," she said resolutely.

Bill offered her his hand and she shook it firmly but warmly. "Would you like to discuss the particulars and catch up over lunch?" he offered, now intrigued about this woman more than ever.

"Sure," Hermione found herself accepting with a smile and put her diary into her shoulder bag before they headed out.

She had no idea that this would be the start of a more than one kind of journey.


	3. Chapter 3

"…so we can take the portkey to France and go from there. Ideally we would find some evidence of this disease here in Britain, but I wouldn't bet on it," Hermione explained as they tried to finalise their plans.

"When are you free to leave?" Bill asked.

"I will need this afternoon to finalise things my end but should be able to start tonight. I'll make a couple of calls and I can visit the archives in Cardiff. You won't have to accompany me for this one, I'll just feel better having extra resources. We can meet first thing in the morning in Edinburgh, at around 7 o'clock?" she suggested.

"Sure, any particular place?" he asked.

"The National Library of Scotland. They have a magical section and will be happy to open it early for us," she explained, making a few more notes in her brown leather diary before putting it into her handbag and leaning back in her seat.

"Just in time," Bill smiled as he smelled their food approaching. The steak and ale pie and thick cut chips smelled delicious, herbal and hearty. He looked over at Hermione's platter and found a beautiful vegetable soup and a thick slice of seeded cob with butter. "Looks great, I didn't know they had such good food here," he mused. He's been gone from Britain for too long…

"Only recently, new owners. Do you remember the Creevey family? Collin was in our year, he was killed in the Final Battle. His younger brother took off after the war and came back from France I think about a year ago. He took over this place in the summer," she explained before a wistful look overcame her. "Best pear and blackcurrant crumble in the whole of London, and I like to eat in muggle restaurants so I can compare," she explained with a smile before dipping her bread in the soup.

"I don't remember you having much appetite," Bill admitted, hoping it wasn't a sore subject. A lot of people their generation refused to speak about the war, some still too pained, others preferring to move on. But that was the time he remembered her most from.

"Thankfully a lot has changed. Our year on the run was…tough. We often went hungry, sharing a couple of tins of soup between the three of us. And since I needed the least food, the majority went to Harry and Ron," she admitted, taking a bite while she shook off the shudder, remembering the cold hungry nights in the tent. "It took me a while but I learned to enjoy food and have quite an appetite these days," she offered in a much lighter tone. "What about yourself? Isn't that steak overcooked for you?" she asked curiously, wondering whether it bothered him when the meat wasn't on the rare side, like it used to bother Remus.

Bill shook his head. "Not this time of the month, but closer to the full moon my opinion will be quite different," he admitted. His lycanthropy broke up his marriage and forever scarred his face, but that didn't mean he would wallow in self-pity. He had bad days, everyone did, but he was part-lycan and that was a fact he couldn't do anything about so he learned to use the best of it.

He saw no judgement in Hermione's eyes, and noticed the small scars littering her face that she didn't hide with a glamour either. A lot of people preferred to do so but here they were, both scarred, too used to wearing their imperfection and just happy to be alive and well. And rather strangely he found himself talking to her about the things he would rarely say out loud to most of his family.

"Protein and carbs?" she asked curiously. "I mean it would make sense," she mused in her straight forward manner.

"Yup, that's it," he agreed and took a bite of the pie with a hum. "Dark ale, very nice," he agreed.

Hermione chuckled at his obvious enjoyment. "I like to come here to pick up lunch sometimes, for myself and Grace, my assistant who runs the shop," she explained.

"She's an interesting one," he mused. "So what made you open the shop?" he asked curiously.

Hermione dabbed the corner of her lips with the cloth handkerchief before reaching for the small glass of wine she was having with her meal. "I worked for the Ministry after sitting my N.E.W.T.s in the summer after the war. I tried to help Kingsley rebuild the departments and lobbied for magical creature rights, but I wasn't making any real change. They would debate my propositions, enjoyed staring and whispering about the war heroine but didn't pass any of the new laws because they were prejudiced old men with no wish to actually preserve anyone's rights other than their own," she said frankly. It wasn't that she was bitter or resigned, she was practical about the fact that sadly some parts of their world were still in the dark ages despite the progression in the general wizarding society.

"That wouldn't surprise me. They tried to lure me into the Department of Mysteries but I couldn't commit to such a corrupt organisation. I just feel sorry for dad that he still has to work with the half-wits," Bill agreed.

"That's why I left, I just didn't want to be a part of the institution when it really wanted no part in change. So I left and went to university in Geneva to gain qualification in runes, arythmetics, and did some courses around librarian magic, and magical book care and restoration back here in London. I've always loved books and decided to do what I enjoy for a living," she explained before sipping some more of her delicious soup.

"Your reputation proceeds your name these days," he observed.

Hermione raised a curious brow. "Where did you hear about me? Well, about my business?" she asked, remembering he was surprised it was actually her he was seeking.

"At the Ministry. This is now an international issue as the dragons at the Romanian reserve are from all over the world, and the worry is that the disease will spread beyond its boarders. I was talking to the International Wizarding Relations liaison and he recommended your shop for the literature that we are seeking," he explained.

Hermione chuckled. "Let me guess, it was Draco Malfoy," she smiled.

Bill nodded. "It was, he had that particular smile on his face as well when he mentioned your shop," he observed.

"You know he was never particularly kind to me and he is still an absolute prat these days but he did apologise after the war and now regularly uses my services to repair some of tomes that were affected by Voldemort's stay in his Manor," she explained. "We're on amicable terms, and don't tell her but he has an eye on courting Ginny," she added.

"My sister, with a Malfoy?" Bill asked incredulously.

Hermione nodded. "Of course, they have a lot in common actually. She could keep him grounded while he treated her as she deserves," she explained as they finished their meal.

"I'll have to see that one before I believe it," Bill admitted.

"Maybe one day you will," she smiled like someone who knew more than they let on.

"Prrrawr," came a demanding sound from her feet and she looked down to see Apollo staring at her unimpressed.

"Hello handsome, how did you get out of the shop?" she asked, glad they have finished their food so she could pick him up into her arms. He purred and nuzzled her cheek, clearly having missed her. "He shouldn't be in a restaurant, we should head out," she said and got up.

"He's yours? I thought you had a ginger cat?" Bill asked curiously as he picked up her cloak and settled it over her shoulders, helping her put it on while she tried to keep a steady hold on the kitten.

"Crookshanks was old and sadly passed away a few years ago. This is Apollo, he's half-kneazle and my traveling companion," she explained as they stepped outside into the chilly street. "Apollo, meet Bill, my colleague in a way, and friend," she introduced.

"Hello Apollo," Bill smiled and offered him his hand.

The kitten smelled it and observed him with his large orange eyes before purring and rubbing his cheek against his knuckles.

Hermione chuckled. "He likes you. I hope you don't mind but I will be taking him with me when we travel. He's proved to have a good nose for books though he does avoid dust. And he is comfortable around other magical creatures," she promised.

"I do not mind in the least," Bill promised, quite charmed by her eccentric ways. A beautiful, smart witch with her own business and traveling the world with her cat. He did wonder how in the world she was still single, if she was at all. He decided to find out. "I hope your partner won't mind you traveling with another wizard?" he asked as they began walking back towards the shop down the long alley.

Hermione chuckled. "I don't have one of those and if he did mind such a simple thing, he would not be my partner for long," she shrugged as they stopped outside her door.

Good answer, Bill had to admit to himself. "Thank you for agreeing to work on this with us, and for a lovely lunch," he said gallantly.

"Thank you for coming to me with this, I'll do anything I can to help. And it was a lovely lunch, I look forward to more of those," she smiled. "If I may, I want to keep the file you brought? I'll see if there is anything else we can access for research," she proposed.

"Absolutely, that is your copy for you to keep. I'll see you tomorrow morning in Scotland," he said and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"It's good to see you again, Bill," she smiled and return the quick peck before he headed off and she went inside to get Apollo to the fire for another cat nap.

She saw how swamped Grace was so lent her a hand for half an hour and posted the advertisement for a full time or two part time assistants for the shop. She would have to leave the interviews to Grace as she was about to leave and wasn't sure how long it would take them to find the cure for the dragon disease. Grace took it all in stride and they agreed for her to stay in touch and report to Hermione every evening after close of business. After wrapping up the last of the paperwork, she locked up her office, gathered Apollo and headed home to pack and make calls to the Glamorgan Archives in Cardiff. The archive had a muggle and magical section both, and was one of the most widely utilised archive by researchers in the whole of Britain, and Hermione had several contacts in the different sections of the archive that she used regularly.

She had no idea just what kind of journey she was embarking on...


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione made sure Apollo was comfortable in her large tote bag and that she had everything packed in her magically expanded duffel bag before plaiting her hair out of the way. The kitten curled up contentedly and purred softly surrounded by the warm scarf she kept in her bag if she needed additional warmth. She sat down to zip up her knee-high boots and checked her figure in the simple navy dress that was comfortable despite hugging her curves well.

Apollo poked his head out and meowed impatiently, ready to leave. "I know, I know, coming," she strapped the muggle watch she got from her parents on her 16th birthday to her wrist and wrapped up warm in a muggle coat.

Apollo purred when she picked up the bag and she smiled, happy to have the company. "You'll have to hold on tight as we spin through the floo," she reminded as the flames turned emerald green and she stepped in. "Princess Alley!" she enunciated clearly and off they were.

She landed in one of the small local pubs in the prominent magical alley but within moments slipped out to its muggle counterpart, Princess Street. From there it was a short apparition to the National Library of Scotland, where she near immediately spotted Bill whose coppery locks caught the first morning rays of sun. He clearly did his research and wore a muggle coat over his waistcoat and shirt, his dragon hide boots appearing nearly to be made out of regular leather to the untrained eye.

"Morning," she smiled as she approached.

Bill turned around and offered her one of the take away coffee cups he was holding. "Morning. I got a couple of flat whites, I saw you like frothy coffee. Would you like one?" he asked, noticing how lovely she looked in the muggle world as well as the magical one.

"Thank you, very kind of you," she accepted it and motioned for them to head up the stairs towards the side entrance for wizarding folk.

"It was no problem. Where's your familiar?" he asked, wondering whether she decided to leave him at home just in case. A soft snore from her handbag was however answer enough and he chuckled. "He finds our visit to the library riveting then," he teased.

"Better sleepy than cranky," Hermione rolled her eyes and took a sip from the delicious coffee. She pulled out a plastic security pass with her photo from the pocket of her coat and slid it through the scanner before it unlocked with a buzz, smiling when Bill held the door open for her and followed her in. "Welcome to the National Library of Scotland," she offered.

"Hey, that's my line," came from the stacks ahead before they were approached by a buxom blond with large vintage horn-rimmed glasses and delightful dimples.

"Sorry, Moira, didn't mean to do your job," Hermione smiled and they hugged in a familiar way, clearly good friends. "Moira, may I introduce my friend and colleague Bill Weasley. Bill, this is the best librarian in Scotland and my dear friend, Moira MacFarlaine," she introduced them and watched as they shook hands.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, I admit my excursions to Scotland have been brief in the past," Bill admitted conversationally.

Moira chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You should ask Minnie to give you a tour. The last time she brought a gentleman with her to Scotland, she-"

"Uhm-uhm," Hermione cleared her throat, interrupting her with a look. "Sorry to rush you, but we're in a hurry to find as much as we can, magical creatures are in danger," she said, focusing the lovely bubbly witch.

Moira tittered. "Right, the dragon section, follow me," she turned around and led them through the stacks.

"Minnie, is it?" Bill asked her curiously, though with a grin.

Hermione shrugged. "We all have nicknames, Will," she teased.

"Nice try," he tutted, rarely going by anything else other than Bill or William.

"What section of the dragon stacks do you need?" Moira asked.

Hermione took out a folder from her bag and leafed through, handing over a sheet. "I visited Lyall at the Welsh archives last night and he indicated that these might be useful in addition to what he gave me," she explained.

Moira seemed to brighten up a bit. "You saw Lyall? How is he?" she asked as she motioned them to a large table and began searching the reference cards.

"He is well, still handsome and still asking about you," Hermione smiled at her fondly, seeing the blush that rose to her cheeks.

"Well, I must write to him some time," Moira said as she jotted down the references for each book. "I'll be with you as soon as I get all these," she promised and disappeared back into the stacks.

Hermione set down her things and nodded her thanks to Bill who took her coat and hung it up with his over a spare chair at a large table. "I visited the Glamorgan archives last night and found some materials that could be useful in our search," she explained and opened her folder.

Inside were two stacks of photocopied articles and parchments, neatly organised and colour-coded. "So in order to broaden our search and not miss anything, I thought of the main characteristics that dragons posses," she began.

Bill thought about it for a moment as he looked at the photos again. "They are large in size with large magical cores similar to wizards…they have scales…..they have wings…." he named a few of the obvious ones.

Hermione nodded. "Precisely. From these photos, the disease is definitely topical but appears to be under the scales as well, so it might actually affect the soft tissue and muscle. And they are definitely on the wings, so this disease could technically affect other magical creatures with these attributes. Better to rule them out than miss them," she reasoned.

"That is impressive," Bill said honestly, not having thought of that himself. "Let me guess, you colour-coded by type?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "Red is for viral, green is for known bacterial diseased. And whatever we find here in Scotland we can add and compare. I haven't had a chance to go through any of these properly, and of course, we best travel further to see the more aged tomes that may be dragon-specific," she admitted.

"It's a great start though," he smiled, feeling more hopeful about finding the cure than he was 24 hours ago.

He rolled up his sleeves, picked up the red pile and a pen, and began sorting through them. Hermione picked up the other pile, opened her research journal and began taking notes. Moira saw they were completely engrossed in their reading so she just set the books they requested on the table and included a couple of extras that may be helpful before heading back to potter about and shelve some of the returned items. Apollo poked his head out of her bag and shuffled to curl up in her lap, enjoying the warmth of his human and keeping his fire-breathing muzzle away from her research like the good boy he was.

They barely took a break for quick sandwiches and some coffee, trying to get through everything as fast as they could. The sun was just about setting when Hermione closed the last book in her pile and rolled her shoulders, hearing her joints pop satisfyingly. Bill closed the book he was reading as well and rubbed his eye tiredly, ready to stop reading for the day.

"Anything?" he asked.

Hermione checked her notes and nodded. "Just one case of something similar caused by a potion accident developing on a pet iguana but nothing really. There's rotting potions, charms, it could be a multitude of things but without knowing how they affect scales and dragon magic, I cannot narrow it. Anything in the viral section?" she asked.

Bill shook his head. "Nothing whatsoever. I did however learn that there are viruses that cause dragons to sneeze fire continuously, hick-up their stomach acid, or make them change the colour of their scales," he sighed, a headache starting to settle in.

"We really need to determine at least what we are dealing with," Hermione stressed. "Is there any way we can talk to Charlie?" she asked.

Bill nodded. "We can fire-call him. If we're done here, we should travel to our next stop, get a hotel, some food, and speak to him before we rest and get any further," he suggested.

Hermione was ready to agree, honestly looking forward to taking off her bra and putting up her feet after the long day. "Let's do that. The next stop is Archives Nationales in Paris," she pulled out the small map of Europe she prepared to mark their destinations and crossed off Scotland.

"Good. I know a few wizarding hotels in Paris, and I think a couple of them are friendly to familiars so they won't give Apollo any trouble," he promised.

"Thank you," Hermione smiled and they packed up their new copies to the correct piles, the thick folder filling up nicely with their newly acquired research.

Moira appeared from the stacks and helped them clear up the table. "Are you sure you have everything you need?" she asked.

"We do, thank you Moira. You're a star as ever," Hermione thanked her and they hugged before saying goodbye and heading out into the fresh air, the international apparition spot just down the street.

Apollo jumped down and headed around the building to do his business, returning a few moments later, ready to get to another warm place. Hermione placed him into her bag and looked at Bill. "Do you want to grab food here or there?" she asked.

Bill offered her his elbow. "Travel first, food after," he suggested. Hermione held onto him tightly and made sure Apollo was tucked into the bag as well before they popped out of the British Isles and landed near silently in a dark alley outside what looked like a hotel and restaurant alley.

Hermione breathed in the evening city smell and smiled. "Falafel?" she asked, wondering whether she smelled correctly.

Bill smiled and nodded. "Welcome to Rue des Rosiers, or the Street of the Rose Bushes. This is the Jewish part of Paris, called the Marais. If you like, we can get breakfast at Sacha Finkelsztajn, one of the best sweet bakeries and patisseries around here," he suggested.

"Deal," Hermione smiled and let herself be led through the throngs of people towards a lovely historic building with a white-painted facade and a large sign that read Studios Marais. She was still holding onto his elbow so they wouldn't lose each other in the busy street, glad to be shown new parts of one of her favourite cities in the world. "Thank you," she said suddenly. "For showing me a part of this city I've never been to before," she offered.

"Well, it is my favourite part so I thought I would share," he offered with that quirky handsome half-smile of his, and opened the door for her.

The receptionist stood up when he saw Bill and they shook hands while greeting each other like old friends in fluent French. They immediately began to look for what was currently vacant at such short notice.

"Une chambre, ou deux?" the young man asked, looking from Bill to Hermione and trying to figure out whether they were going to be sleeping together.

"Avez-vous une suite avec deux chambres?" Hermione asked, wondering whether that may be enough privacy for them while they could still share a fireplace and spread out their research. She looked at Bill whether that was okay and he nodded in agreement. It was a good idea.

"Oui, mademoiselle, un moment s'il vous plaît," he smiled and checked the register and made a few notes before finding them a free suite.

Within moments they were in a fairly spacious suite with a common room and two double bedrooms. The bathroom joined the two rooms and the common room had a lovely roaring fire already lit, a dining table they could spread their notes on, and a beautiful balcony with a couple of chairs for them to use.

"Merci, Jean-Baptiste," Bill thanked him and discretely handed over a five euro note before they closed the door to get some privacy.

Hermione stretched after chucking her coat over one of the chairs. "Okay, shower and food first," she suggested, enlarging her luggage and picking the left room at random.

"How about you shower and I get you a taste of the local delicacies?" he offered, having a couple of places in mind.

"Sounds good. Firecall to Charlie once we eat?" she asked.

"Deal," Bill agreed and took one of the room keys before heading out.

Hermione quickly found her long sleeve red plaid pyjamas and toiletry bag and headed for the bathroom. There was no need for any pretences, they have all seen each other in pyjamas plenty of times at the Burrow and during the war at Shell Cottage, so they could get comfortable. She groaned happily as she took of the blasted bra and climbed into the hot shower, careful to keep her curls away from the hot stream. Apollo was sitting on the closed toilet lid for a moment before jumping into the shower with her, meowing until she bent down and shampooed him gently. His maine coon genes meant he loved the water and liked his baths and shower as well.

She dried off quickly before wrapping the soaked kitten in a towel straight off the radiator to keep him warm while she dressed. Her pyjamas were soft and warm, and she usually packed them if she traveled in winter. Sleeves rolled up and lotion applied, she ventured back into the common room to see if Bill was back. The table held a deliciously smelling spread of roasted lamb meat, fresh falafel, three different flavours of hummus, flatbread and salad. And in a small bowl on the side some scraps of roasted meat.

"This smells delicious," Hermione breathed it all in and stole a juicy dark olive from one of the bowls. "Hmmm, thank you, this is a treat."

Bill shuffled the last of the paperwork away and headed for his room. "It's all being kept warm but if you want to start without me, please go ahead," he encouraged before closing the door to shower as well.

Hermione found the idea rude and rather summoned her pouch with floo powder and threw it in, calling out Ginny's address. The flat was dark and silent from what she could see so she instead summoned her muggle mobile phone and sent her friend a text message just to let her know she was out of the country and working with her brothers. Ginny always messaged when she had time and felt like it, and not a moment sooner.

Bill came out of his bedroom in a pair of black joggers and t-shirt, rubbing his wet shoulder-length copper locks dry. "You really didn't have to wait," he said but she could see he was glad to have dinner company.

"Of course. Apollo was not so polite though, sorry," she grinned and motioned at the empty bowl of scraps that the kitten practically inhaled.

Bill pulled out a chair for her before taking his own seat, transfiguring a couple of plates from blank sheets of paper before they picked at bits and pieces, sharing the delicious local food. They talked about some of their hypotheses they had while they ate, trying to catch a few relaxing moments before they had to do more work. Bill even managed to get them some elderflower wine and after clearing the table of the dishes, they nursed a glass each as they made the fire-call to Charlie.

"Hermione, you have no idea how good it is to see you," Charlie smiled tiredly, his head floating in the fire.

"It's been too long, Charlie," she replied kindly. He looked utterly exhausted and she could see the strain this crisis was causing him. "How are you holding up?" she asked gently.

The head bobbed a bit, as if he shrugged a shoulder out of their view. "Doing the best I can so they don't feel too much pain," he admitted, closing his eyes briefly.

Hermione's heart clenched at the sight of his pain, knowing those dragons meant the world to him. "We're trying really hard to find any information that could be useful," she promised. "What did the tests you conduct say? Was it cause by potion? Is it bacterial or viral?" she asked, hoping they could establish some basics.

Charlie shook his head. "Honestly, we don't know. It's not behaving like anything we've ever seen before and our tests can't really determine the origins," he explained.

Hermione thought for a moment before realising what she has been overlooking. "What about muggle tests?" she asked suddenly.

Both of the Weasley men looked very surprised. "Muggle tests? On magical creatures? Is that even possible?" he asked.

"Not without too many questions. The DNA would be foreign to the systems and a regular muggle would not know what to do with it. The researcher would have to be a squib, with the training and access to a muggle laboratory," she spoke through her thoughts before looking at Charlie again. "If it's bacterial, we will be able to develop a culture whether the sample is known to us or not. That will at least help us narrow it down!" she said excitedly, getting off the sofa fast as she paced. "I will need a live sample of the tissue, the puss and some of the blood from a dragon. Preferably early stages and later stages to have comparable sets. We'll also need a control sample from a healthy dragon and one from a dead dragon to observe the effects post-mortem," she listed out. "Could you get these?" she asked.

Charlie nodded but hesitated. "I know we are talking about compromised tissue but dragon parts and samples are still a highly regulated commodity. It's not that I don't trust you but I will need chain of evidence documentation."

"Of course, that's perfectly fine. I have a contact, a squib contact in a muggle lab who could do some analysis for us to narrow our search. How quickly can you get all the samples and documents?" she asked, looking at the clock. Half past eight, she would have to call in a favour she was saving up, but it will be worth it.

"I'll need to check in with my director and collect everything. An hour?" he guesstimated.

Hermione nodded. "That's good, gives me enough time to set everything up," she promised. "Tell your director to look up my credentials and the credentials of the École Polytechnique where we'll be conducting the tests, that should persuade him," she added.

"Thanks, I'll come through once I have everything," Charlie promised and disappeared.

Hermione picked up her muggle Motorola and diary and began making phone calls in both English and French. Bill took this as his cue and spread out their research again and added information to his investigations log to monitor their progress. It appeared it will be a long night and their rest will be short, but seeing his brother in such a pained state was more than enough motivation to keep going.


	5. Chapter 5

Bill looked at the clock inside their suite and saw it was nearly two in the morning. He exhaled the herbal smoke from his lungs and observed the street below their balcony, hidden from the view of the people still awake at this hour by notice-me-not charms.

It took Charlie about an hour until he had everything sorted and flooed into their hotel. Hermione had changed into a pair of jeans and a thick sweater to not waste any time while they waited for him, her calls made and someone awaiting her at the technical university. She quickly signed the chain of evidence and took it with her for everyone else who will be handling the samples, and looked in at all the samples to make sure they would have enough for testing. With a few more words to them both she disappeared into the night, her taxi awaiting outside the hotel. Charlie looked like would pass out soon so Bill sent him back home to get some rest now that his shift was over, and returned to the research they already had. Maybe if he read through it one more time, he would spot something they've missed.

He was just taking a break when he saw a muggle taxi stop near the hotel and after a few moments Hermione stepped out, carrying a thick file and the travel cooler. She looked up toward their suite and her eyes narrowed for a moment until Bill lowered the spells and waved to her to let her know he was up and waiting for her. She looked tired but offered a smile nonetheless as she disappeared into the building and soon was unlocking the door to their suite.

"Hey, you didn't have to wait up," she said, locking the door after herself and setting everything down.

"Of course I did," he said and motioned at the glass of elderflower wine he just refilled for her.

"Thank you," she accepted it readily and sunk into the seat next to him, drinking half of the glass in a gulp.

Bill chuckled at her tired antics. "You were longer than I thought you would be," he admitted, taking another toke before offering her the cigarillo.

"Eucalyptus, right?" she asked, accepting it and taking a deep toke as well, closing her eyes while she let the smoke whirl around her mouth before releasing it contentedly. "This reminds me of uni. Two of the guys in my Arithmetic lab always had us around for shisha and clove cigarillos. Haven't tasted any in years," she admitted.

"It's something I picked up in Egypt, helps me settle down sometimes," He looked up at the filling moon.

Hermione closed her eyes a moment, the headache pounding in her temples loudly. She took another sip of her wine and rolled her neck, hearing the cracks of stiffened joints and feeling muscles loosen. "Thank Merlin, today has been a long day."

"Agreed. Do you want to discuss the findings tonight or should we get some sleep?" he asked, seeing how tired she was.

Hermione shook her head. "Tomorrow, definitely. There's something…off about them. I can't put my finger on it but there's something not quite right about the results. But one thing we managed to determine, it's bacterial for sure. We were able to grow a culture, so we know what it looks like but we don't know what it is or how it spreads yet," she said tiredly, clearly worried.

"Hey," Bill got her attention and waited until she looked at him. "We'll figure it out. Right now we need some sleep and we can review everything in the morning at breakfast. How about we lie in until 7 or 8?" he suggested. To most that wouldn't be much of a lie in but he could tell she was an early riser and he himself rarely slept past five in the morning.

Hermione nodded and finished her glass in another large gulp, ready to be done for the day. "I'll set my alarm for 7 so we can get some breakfast from the bakery you mentioned?" she suggested as they headed inside, locking up the balcony securely and raising wards around their abode for the night. Bill readily agreed and they said good night before heading to their respective bedrooms.

* * *

_Their humble cottage smelled of the dried lavender and nettle hanging near the fireplace, the scent comforting as she stretched and wondered what brought her awake._

_Little fingers were reaching up to for her chin, trying to reach for her in that gentle, uncoordinated way. She looked down at her beautiful daughter who was moving around and softly babbling to herself, looking for milk to feed her hungry tummy. Slowly, to not awaken her husband, she untied the top of her shirt and pulled the baby girl closer on her side, offering her one of the milk-heavy breasts to suckle, encouraging her quietly. She smiled lovingly at the babe, their first child, one they have been praying for._

_The arm resting on her still soft belly tightened a little and coarse beard hair tickled her neck before lips pressed to the freckled skin there sleepily. "Hûmeta ûser dohtor, lêoflic mæcca?" he whispered in her ear gently._

Hermione gasped for air as she sat up in bed, the smell of lavender and nettle still in her nose. Her hand reached for her breast but it was just as always, not as full and heavy as they felt a moment ago. What the hell was wrong with her? And why was she dreaming in Old English?

* * *

French National Archives have been helpful, and not. They found three of the tomes on their original research list, and were able to fairly quickly determine that none of them contained mention of this disease. They were lucky that the tomes were newer and written in a version of the French language they had no trouble translating. They may not have found what they were looking for but at least they were able to tick those three off their list and focus on the older tomes.

"So the herbal components indicated in the analysis is the salve they've been applying on top of the infection," Bill summarised once more.

"Yes, and the infection underneath the salve is of bacterial origin. See, this is the control sample," she pointed to a graph on the previous page, "and this is the early stage of the disease. The bacteria multiply and eat through the tissue or make it rot somehow, causing infection, hence the puss. So we know it's some sort of flesh eating or scale-eating or rotting bacteria. The two issues with that are one, we have no idea where it comes from, and how it travels, and two, we have named this 'bacteria' but we are modern. The term 'bacteria' only came into use in the 19th and 20th century. Ancient texts will refer to it by a variety of other names, so we will have to look very carefully for a term to associate with bacteria," she explained before putting the report into her bag and making sure Apollo was settled in her handbag as they took the international floo to Brussels.

They spun through the network and landed on their feet in the Magical Ministry of Belgium, greeted by a helpful guide form their Department of Magical Creature Care. As they walked through the long hallways and took turns around corners, Bill looked around curiously. His travels and work have never taken him to Belgium before but the contrast between the British and the Belgian Mistry was vast. The architecture of the building itself was Romanesque however he could see neat rows of offices with modern features, muggle telephones and magical memos alike. Workers in robes and muggle dresses and suits both. It was an interesting blend between the ancient and modern, magical and influenced by muggle technology and customs.

They stopped outside an ornate door and their guide briefly poked his head inside the office before holding the door open for them. Inside, walking towards them was a tall, handsome man of Bill's build however in his fifties, his salt-and-pepper hair cropped short and styled neatly.

"Mademoiselle Granger, it is a pleasure as always," he picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles.

"Monsieur Willems," she greeted graciously with a smile and stepped aside for the men to introduce themselves.

Lucas Willems was an incredibly charismatic man. She has met him several times in the past at Ministry functions as part of international relations and he never failed to try and charm Hermione off her feet. He was also a shrewd business man and never failed to utilise an opportunity for good press. This could play into their hand.

"Please do sit down," he invited them to the chairs in front of his desk and a moment later their tea arrived. "What do we owe this wonderful visit?" he asked, sensing their purpose.

Before they went in that morning, Hermione and Bill agreed to let her do the majority of the talking and Bill could see why. The Head of the Belgian Department of Magical Creature Care was a bit of a sleaze by his unobtrusive appreciation of Hermione's décolletage in the periwinkle blouse she wore this morning.

Hermione handed him over a letter from the Romanian Ministry of Magic which Charlie provided for them earlier that morning, stating that they were now acting on behalf of the country and the welfare of dragon kind in the whole of Europe. "We are conducting research into a malignant disease spreading amongst the dragons at the Romanian dragon reserve. So far we have had no further cases in the rest of Europe, however there have been new cases amongst the dragons at the reserve in the past 24 hours despite the strict quarantine imposed. We fear that dragon welfare in the whole continent is at risk. We would like to request the co-operation of your department in sourcing research materials and providing us with a space to conduct out research at your premises," she explained, her expression somber but tone warm towards him.

He read the letter, listening to their request and nodded in an agreeable fashion. "Of course, we will be happy to provide all you need. And what research materials would you like to request?" he asked.

Hermione handed over the amended list she prepared specifically for him. The majority of the aged tomes they wanted to consult were here, in Switzerland and in Czech Republic. Belgian archives and national library was connected to the Ministry, built underground next to the Ministry building in order to withstand any wizarding or muggle wars. If they got access to the Ministry, they would have access to the libraries.

"These should be available in our archives. I will assign my deputy to source them for you while you set up in one of our conference rooms. Please follow me," Willems got up and led them down the hall to a spacious conference room with some beautifully carved cabinets and a large polished table that would suit them well. "I hope this will be suitable for your needs?" he asked.

"Merci, Monsieur Willems," she thanked him with an appreciative smile.

"Always a pleasure, Mademoiselle Granger. My deputy will be along shortly with your materials and some refreshments," he kissed her knuckles again before leaving the room.

Bill looked like he was busy with folding his coat but really was casting a few charms that confirmed there was some surveillance and nodded to Hermione to indicate they should be careful in their phrasing, confirming her own suspicions about the choice of room. She had enough experience in politics to occasionally foreign dignitaries and diplomats were observed or listened in on, but it was not a common practice an there was always a reason behind it. The fact that they were in a conference room indicates that they were not trusted. She was glad they were both cautious and agreed to be careful about their wording.

"I hope we find the answers today, the Belgian archives are one of the eldest ones in the whole of Europe," she said conversationally while folding her coat for Apollo to curl up on.

She felt Bill's presence very close and turned around, nearly bumping into him. "Are you alright?" he asked very softly in barely a whisper to not be overheard nonetheless.

Hermione nodded, noticing the sweet freckles on his nose. "He's duplicitous but useful in this case. I just look forward to getting out of here, hopefully with the information we need," she whispered softly. "The room is somehow bugged for sure. Let's keep any big revelations to ourselves or on paper where they can't hear it," she suggested.

"No problem," he agreed readily, hoping they won't be long here. "Oh, I could have sworn you had something in your hair," he said in his usual tone before stepping away from her and into his seat, looking over their notes.

"So this one," he pointed to the graph they were discussing earlier in the analysis of the diseased flesh. "We cannot confirm the way this is spreading?" he asked, looking at the list of ingredients they found applied to the scales.

"No. If it was viral and airborne, I would understand why even quarantined dragons were suddenly falling ill. This seems like something that would be spread via direct contact. A worker who doesn't wash hands, or their equipment… something of the sort," she mused but really wrote down a question for Bill on the paper. _Did Charlie confirmed that that was not the case? We need to be able to rule out human factor._

"Hmm.." Bill sounded as if he was in deep thought. "Perhaps a review of the quarantine procedures and how they were implemented? We could suggest that as part of the investigation," he commented while picking up the ball-point pen and scribbling his response in his tall, loopy handwriting. _Equipment is sterilised after each use, the staff is vetted and only specified handlers are looking after the sick dragons. There should be no cross-contamination but I can double-check with Char._

Hermione nodded. "That sounds reasonable," she replied neutrally but clearly nodding towards the suggestion on the parchment.

She covered the parchment up inconspicuously by placing another report on top of it as they heard the book cart nearing their door. Hermione took out her personal vinyl gloves and cleared up a section of the table for the stand that some of the older tomes will be placed onto. And she was not disappointed. The cart held a few tomes from the past 400 years and three gems from the 12th, 14th and 15th century. She could not wait to leaf through those.

"Mademoiselle," the deputy greeted with a slight bow and handed back her list along with the index cards for each book that held information about the book title, author, language, and any notes on the condition that will indicate how the books need to be handled.

"Merci," she accepted them gratefully and pulled on her gloves, looking at the books first to determine what would be the best course of action. "I think it would be wise to divide them by older and newer," she suggested and looked at the index cards. "Lucking the four newer ones are in Modern French. Are you happy to look into those?" she asked Bill.

He nodded and picked up his book pile before settling back in his seat. He opened the first book but his gaze was still on Hermione, observing her in her element. She gently carried the first book onto the stand and once again read through the index card to see if there was anything she needed to be careful about in particular. Once she looked satisfied, she summoned a pouch of tools from her handbag that she unwrapped and laid out. He could see more gloves, tweezers, some vials with differently coloured liquids and powders, and an interesting looking pair of glasses. Hermione put them on and spoke a soft latin spell. In a moment the glasses cast a brighter, blue-tinted light on the page below, allowing her to see greater detail and any notes that were made in faint pencil if need be. Bill guessed it was not damaging to the tomes like regular light, he's rarely used blue lighting himself. He had never before seen someone from her field at work but she was just as he imagined, moving carefully but with precision.

He was done with two books by the time Hermione gently closed the first one. It was time consuming gently going through a thick tome with small letters and in a foreign tongue. This particular book was in Middle French, a historical division of the French language that covered the period from the 14th to the early 17th centuries, and required close attention as this time was very changeable and the language had particular nuances in each of the centuries. She rolled and flexed her shoulders and gratefully accepted a cup of tea from Bill who was very much aware that their research options were narrowing down.

If they were unsuccessful here, there were only two more destinations that could hold the answer. What if they could not find it? What if this wasn't something old but very much new, a mutation of an old disease that was now attacking in a new form? They've thought about that but still would have to find the original in order to trace a mutation... It was maddening.

Hermione huffed in frustration when the second book was so fragile it would take her forever to leaf through it. Apollo perked at the sound from his human and padded over, careful as he jumped into her lap to keep his tail away from the precious books. Hermione leaned down and kissed the top of his head in silent thanks for his affection and support, unable to stroke him with the gloves she was wearing. She looked at the index card and frowned slightly before gently leafing through to a particular section of the book. She carefully translated the first ten pages of the chapter and began making copies with an unobtrusive spell onto a fresh roll of parchment. She made sure to read all that was pertinent to the chapter before gently closing the book and stretching.

She got Bill's attention as she got up, signalling she has something to discuss and stretched her shoulders for the possible audience they had. "We should get some lunch, I'm quite hungry," she suggested. "Let me quickly clean up this mess and we con come back to it. I have half of the book to go," she shuffled some parchments as if tidying but really making sure the one parchment she needed to take with her as on the edge of the pile.

"Sure, I could definitely use a bite," Bill offered and watched as she took her handbag, set it down on the table and began packing up her tools. She dropped her scarf as if accidentally and picked it back up, the scroll she had copied hidden within and a spare clean roll of parchment in its place to not leave any evidence behind. "Come on, sweetie," she placed Apollo into her bag as well to guard the scroll and carried her handbag with her out of the room as they discussed what food they were in the mood for.


	6. Chapter 6

They asked around for recommendations to local restaurants, spinning a tale about wanting to enjoy some sights in between research. They were directed to the centre of Brussels to the shopping district which held small family restaurants and chains alike. Hermione suggested one of the local cuisine restaurants, wanting to try some Stoverij, a rich beef stew made with beer that was a national dish in Belgium. Bill was happy to go along with it and they settled into a corner booth in the restaurant, a pint of local beer in front of them each.

To everyone they appeared like colleagues out for a leisurely lunch, trying out the local delicacies. In reality, Bill used a trick they learnt during the war to indicate the position of the two wizards that were following them. He seemed to be subconsciously tapping his finger on the table but in reality he tapped it three times at first to indicate third row away from them, and sixth table from the left by switching hands before tapping his forefinger six times. Hermione pointed out some of the features of the restaurant like a true tourist, catching their position from the corner of her eye.

She turned towards her handbag but really reached for her wand and cast a complex glamour and a silencing charm. It would appear to the outside world like they were just sitting there and having food without much conversation, and no one could hear what they were actually discussing.

"This is not my department," Hermione said straight away, uncomfortable with what was turning from a research trip to international espionage.

"I hardly think it's not your department," Bill pointed out, both of them aware of the other's history with undercover work from the war. That didn't mean he wasn't disconcerted. "This makes no sense. We came here announced, and Belgium is supposed to be one of our partner nations. We've never had any issues with them, not even in Gringotts," he frowned.

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Belgium has been one of the strongest allies the British Ministry has. And I'm unaware of any tension between Belgium and Romania that could influence the outcome of our investigation. Something isn't right here, they're listening to us in that research room, if not observing us as well, and now we're being followed? We need to act as soon as possible," she said and pulled out the scroll.

"I saw you hide that, did you find the answer?" he asked, hoping against all odds that it was what they needed.

To his great surprise and relief she nodded. "We know what it is. It's a man-made disease. We have the history of how it appeared, and what they used to treat it and the recipe for the cure. We have it all on this one scroll," she said and cast a duplication spell on the parchment. "Here, I want us to each have a copy, just in case we get separated," she handed it over and watched as Bill put it into a charmed inside pocket of his coat. "We also still have a few missing pieces. How did the outbreak start? How did it transfer from each dragon to the other, and why is another government interfering with our investigation?" she pointed out.

"We need to ideally leave now but most of our notes are still back at the Belgian Ministry," Bill argued.

"We don't need them though," Hermione pointed out. "We have what we need right here, and the rest of our notes are so broad in spectrum they won't know what we focused on and what we found. I have everything that is personal in my handbag, do you have everything you need?" she asked.

Bill nodded. "Everything is in my coat, I left nothing personal behind. Do you think we can leave unnoticed?" he wondered.

Hermione shook her head. "No, but we can slow them down. If we can get them distracted for a while so they don't notice our absence for a few hours, it would give us some time to get this to Charlie and get ahead in the investigation," she said as she wrecked her brain for a solution.

Bill seemed to be on it though. "Do you know how to cast a golem spell on yourself?" he asked.

Hermione's eyes brightened. "Why of course, that's brilliant!" She whipped out her wand and practiced the particular hand movement from memory before casting the charm over herself. A golem Hermione appeared beside her, looking just like herself. She reached for her utensils and began eating as if nothing was happening.

Bill nodded and cast his own spell, a golem Bill appearing beside him and grabbing his beer for a gulp. "Shame about the beer, it was nice," he commented and cast a well-aimed confundus on their two guards. In a matter of seconds they took down the glamour and silencing charms and walked calmly to the bathroom to not draw attention to themselves. They hid around the corner and looked back to their previous table, their golems doing a good job of looking like them and the guards back to being vigilant and observing them, none-the-wiser of the deceit.

Bill guided her towards the loo and they unobtrusively slipped into the Gentlemen and into a stall in the corner. "Here, I carry this in case of emergencies," He pulled out a folded napkin and waved his wand over it in a circular motion while he muttered an address.

"A spare portkey, I should start carrying one of those," Hermione said more to herself than her companion.

"It's a bit of a way to Romania, I'm transporting us straight into Char's cottage. You might want to tuck in and put Apollo between us," Bill suggested, not wanting her to lose the kitten in the transport.

Hermione cast a sealing charm over the top of her bag, hearing Apollo meow grumpily. "I know sweetheart, only for a moment, I promise," she soothed and hung the straps of the tote bag over her neck so the bag would be protected between their bodies.

She looked up at Bill and he opened his arms almost as if they were about to waltz. So Hermione stepped into them and held onto his shoulder while he wrapped an arm around her waist securely. They clasped the portkey between their outstretched hands and they disappeared with a soft crack.

Hermione closed her eyes as they spun through space and time before they suddenly landed on a hard wooden floor. She stumbled a little in her heels but Bill's arm around her waist kept her safe. "Thank you," she looked up into those lovely green eyes, a moment of stillness passing between as they held onto each other.

"You're welcome," Bill almost whispered, the closeness between them allowing his senses to take her delightful scent in.

"Praawr!" came form the handbag between them and they practically jumped apart, Hermione hurrying to the nearby sofa to open it up and let Apollo out to check out their surroundings. He prowled around curiously, sniffing this and that, and finally curled up in front of the fire, watching the humans curiously.

Bill cast his patronus, a majestic eagle with wingspan nearly as wide as the room itself. All he said was 'cottage' and sent it off to find Charlie, knowing he would get the message without giving away too much to the rest of the reserve just yet. And within moments Charlie was unlocking the front door and coming in, casting privacy charms all around the cottage the moment he spotted them.

"Hey! Did you get it? Why the secrecy?" he asked, sensing that something was not right by their grim expressions. He led them to the small kitchen and motioned for them to grab a seat at the corner table while he made some tea and heated up some pie for himself. Merlin knew he was bloody starving.

Hermione motioned for Bill to go ahead and explain while she took out the parchment and began translating the content now that she had the time to do so.

"Basically, we know what it is. We discovered a mention of this disease in one of the books that were stored at the Belgian Ministry of Magic," Bill began explaining.

"Hold on, Belgian? You got this information in Belgium?" Charlie asked, pointing at whatever Hermione was writing.

"Yes, at their national archives connected to the Ministry," the elder Weasley son added while accepting a nice steaming cup of tea from his brother. "We were welcomed very warmly at first, however they were listening in on our activities in the research room provided, possibly observed our actions as well, and then when we headed out for lunch, we were followed by two members of their undercover Aurors."

Charlie joined them at the table with the rest of the drinks and food, making Hermione smile when he made hers just as she used to like it during the war. "That would be because the Belgians are attempting to get a large contract from the United Wizarding Nations to rebuild their dilapidated dragon reserve in the Eifel National Park. There's only three reserves that applied. Us, them, and the Welsh dragon reserve. But Wales only has three different dragon breeds and without investment won't expand, and the Belgian management of that reserve was so corrupt they had to scale down. We are by far the best contender with the size of our reserve and the fact that we have over fourteen different breeds of dragons, and we breed them successfully. We also suggested in our proposal that we will work with the Welsh reserve to help them breed dragons more effectively, meaning they will be expanded. But because of the corruption, we refuse to work with the Belgians, which they took very personally," he explained, providing the missing piece of information as to why they were treated like spies on Belgian soil.

"This disease has already killed two of our dragons and we're struggling to keep the other six infected alive. If we lose them, we are losing dragons that are part of a breeding pair, and one ancient breed that is nearly extinct. Not only would we lose important lives, but we could lose the contract and miss out on funds to expand and provide more for the remaining dragons in our care," he rubbed his face tiredly, clearly at the end of his tether.

Hermione reached out for his hand and squeezed it encouragingly. "Hey, we have the cure. It will take a full day to brew but you will be able to save some of those infected," she promised. "We do need to know how the disease has spread though so we can prevent further cases," she tried to get his mind to focus.

"We have no idea," he said honestly. "We've checked equipment, all protocols, all personnel…we don't know where else to look," he admitted.

Bill and Hermione shared a look, clearly thinking the same way. "Are you sure you've checked all possible angles of the personnel files? Anyone new or recently joined? Anyone who could be easily swayed with money, or in threat of being blackmailed?" she asked.

Charlie shook his head. "Honestly, I don't know. Andrei, another manager is supposed to be checking that but he said there was nothing suspicious."

"And has someone checked on Andrei?" Bill asked, seeing Charlie realised where he was going with this. "Let us help, investigation is what I do well. Get me a list of those who had contact with all the infected dragons before and after the quarantine and I'll see if anything was missed," he suggested. "No one should be beyond suspicion, not even your director," he reminded.

"If there's anyone who would most definitely not be swayed by politics or money, it's Radovan," Charlie warned but in principle agreed. "I'll try to have that list ready by end of today and make sure you have access to everyone's files and any other information we have."

Hermione sipped her steaming cuppa. "I can help as well, I'm sure you could use another pair of hands. If you don't have a potion master available, I can brew the cure. Or it may be worth you showing me around so I can try to help figure out where the disease came from and how it's spreading?" she suggested.

"Can you do both at the same time?" he asked with a smile though it wasn't humorous.

Apparently they were more short-staffed than Hermione originally thought. She took his question seriously though and looked at the brewing process. "Actually, yes I can. I need a safe lab that only I will have access to, so no one tampers with the potion. But after the initial three hours of brewing, it's just simmering in between periodical additions of ingredients every four hours. I could investigate in between?" she suggested.

Charlie was surprised but nodded with a relieved smile. "Thank you, both. For everything," he said gratefully.

"Hey, anytime, anything," Bill reminded him.

Hermione nodded in agreement and showed him the recipe for the potion. "I need to know if you have all of these ingredients. Do you mind checking while I change? This is my favourite blouse and I would rather not have dragon on it," she chuckled.

"Sure, I can do that. Here, let me show you to the bathroom," he got up and after she grabbed her bag led her through the hallway to the correct door.

While she was changing, Charlie returned to the kitchen and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that they had all of the ingredients listed on her recipe. "I don't know what we would have done without you two, brother," he admitted.

"Honestly, it was mostly Hermione. She's unlike any other woman I've ever known," Bill admitted, unafraid to say such a thing to Charlie whom he trusted with his life.

"I can see the way you look at her," Charlie offered, glad to see his brother interested again. Things with Fleur didn't end on a happy note due to their significant differences and he knew Bill liked to bury himself in work. This way he was doing what he loved, with a woman he was clearly smitten with.

"And what a sight she is," Bill said fondly. It was true, Hermione's most beautiful characteristic was that incredible intelligence, determination and kindness, but he loved those wild, bouncy curls, those small freckles peppering her nose that mirrored his own flesh, and the gorgeous curvy hips and luscious bum. His ex-wife was a beautiful woman in an almost etherial way. Hermione was a different kind of beauty, a natural, down-to-earth one, and his nose sought her scent when she was nearby on instinct, enjoying her with all his senses.

Charlie shook his head, an approving smile on his lips. Hopefully these two will be smart enough to realise their attraction to each other and get on with courting. Speaking of the devil, Hermione joined them once again, this time in a pair of worn, snug jeans and a black turtleneck jumper that would keep her warm. Her heels were gone as well, replaced by practical ankle boots, and her wand was once again keeping her messy bun in place. She picked up her mug and finished her cup of tea before addressing them. "Ready?" she asked. The men nodded and they headed out of the cottage, leaving Apollo to snooze by the fire.


	7. Chapter 7

She sat on the steps outside the lab, taking a deep toke from one of the eucalyptuse cigarillos she pinched off Bill earlier. The smoke curled around her flushed face as Hermione allowed herself to cool off from the stifling heat of the boiling cauldron and heated lab.

It was a cool, crisp October day in the Romanian mountains and she should be wearing a coat under normal circumstances, but she really needed some fresh air to clear her head and give her overheated body a break. A wry smile twisted her lips at the thought of fresh air when the cancerous smoke escaped her lips. Really, she needed to be careful or she would slip back into her uni habits, and smoking was not a good habit to pick up by any means.

Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, her hair was an absolute mess due to the heat and steam, the curls trying to escape the tight bun she forced them into earlier to keep it out of her face. Her cheeks were as rosy as the skin of her hands, rubbed near raw with the disinfectant, and she was ready for a nap. It has been a whirlwind of a day and it was not ending anytime soon.

She saw Bill passing by and pause when he noticed her, walking over to join her on the step. She offered him the cigarillo just as he did to her the night in Paris and he accepted readily, their fingers grazing gently in the passing. "Sneaky, I didn't notice you taking one," he commented, knowing he did not leave one behind.

"Sorry, not sorry," she grinned and rolled her head around in a circle, hearing her neck pop in a few places tiredly.

"How's it going with the cure?" he asked, passing the cigarillo back to her.

"Good, the base is simmering so I can go find Charlie and help with the investigation and treatment. I just needed a timeout," she admitted.

"You and me both," Bill pulled out something from his pocket and showed her a miniature stack of about 40 different staff records folders that he needed to go through today.

Hermione took a last toke before charming the bud away to not cause any littering. "You know, not that I'm complaining about us working together, but I can't wait for this investigation to be over so I can get some proper sleep," she chucked.

Bill merely smiled. "I think working together has been the best part of this mission," he admitted, watching to see what she thought of that.

Hermione hid a smile in her water bottle as she took a long drink from it before finally responding. "That, and saving dragon lives," she mused as they got up and with a last look parted ways again.

* * *

Hermione made sure her gloves were tightly sealed around her wrists so the puss wouldn't get anywhere near her skin and submerged a cloth in the pot of salve before wringing out a bit and placing it over the rotten scales like a large linen dressing to keep it soaking the area. There wasn't an adequate way to describe the smell of rotting dragon scales and flesh, something between rotten eggs, vinegar, gone off grilled burger and crispy friend frog legs. Even that didn't do it justice.

Charlie looked more hopeful now that the cure was on the way. It has been brewing for just over 12 hours now, the skies outside black around them in the dead of the night as they tended to the dragons around the clock. Five of the infected ones looked like they will make a good recovery, the disease not progressing too far. This beautiful Chinese Fireball lady was however in quite a bit of pain, the pockets of rot around her body giving her no rest. Everyone else was asleep while Charlie and herself continued to care for her, agreeing to take the night shift.

"So tell me more about this…disease. What is it?" he asked, realising he didn't even have time to read the parchment she brought with her.

"It has no name recorded. The man who wrote about it did not name it either. The first and only time that we know it appeared was in late 14th century, in 1387 in Rouen. The man who invented it so-to-speak was an alchemist, and a scientist ahead of his era. He did research into the diseases that were killing both muggles and wizards. He was once researching a case of what we now call 'necrotising fasciitis', when an infection makes the tissue and skin rot due to a type of bacteria entering an open wound," she explained.

"That's what we call it now? Is it still around?" Charlie asked curiously.

"Yes, it's something muggles still suffer these days but can be prevented with cleanliness and kept at bay with antibiotics, like muggle anti-inflammation drugs. It was not uncommon in medieval Europe due to lack of hygiene, sanitation and care for wounds. As you can imagine, there was a lot of deaths related to it. This alchemist, Hugolin Lestrange, was studying one such case."

"Lestrange? Any relation to the current Lestranges?"

Hermione shrugged as she disinfected her hands and reached for another clean cloth to submerge into salve. "Possibly, though I am not familiar with their family tree enough. Either way, from the description of the disease he sounds like a grey wizard, someone who neither followed a particular path, nor submitted to corruption. He had a curious mind more than any malicious intent," she spoke, thinking he would make a good Ravenclaw with his sharp mind.

"And he invented this? How?" he asked, aghast. What kind of man did this?

"By accident, actually. He was attempting to formulate a cure using magical herbs and what they then called alchemy, or chemistry rather if you will. In his study of the muggle disease he managed to magically enhance the bacteria somehow and his familiar, a ladder snake, contracted the disease. He nearly died but the man managed to create a cure and make record of it, saving his familiar," she finished the story of the Alchemist.

"That part I understand. What I don't understand is how it is here and now, killing my dragons, and how it's spreading," Charlie washed his hands and rubbed his tired eyes before picking up the shovel to clean up the lady's dung. He may be a manager, but he was first and foremost a dragon handler and carer, no job was above him.

Hermione admired his dedication despite how frustrating this must be to the man. She dipped another cloth into the salve before realising something. She sniffed the salve and recoiled slightly. "Charlie, tell me about this salve," she suddenly got an idea, looking at the nondescript metal bucket it was within.

Charlie wiped the sweat from his forehead as he took a break. "It's a soothing salve, to keep the wounds and surrounding tissue from hurting too much. We usually make eight to ten buckets at once and then make new ones once we run out."

Hermione sniffed it. "There's something about it…." She took off her gloves, picked up the bucket and walked away from the dragon and the stench of rot. Once her nose cleared a bit she took another sniff of the cloudy grey salve and wrinkled her nose. "Does it have antibacterial properties?" she asked as she picked up Charlie's bucket and smelled it too. The scent was the same.

Charlie shook his head. "I'm not sure. Dagmar, our healer, makes these. Why?" he asked.

"Because if these buckets are used on dragons that are outside of quarantine, it could explain how the disease is spreading. Someone didn't wash their hands and cross-contaminated this batch," she explained, knowing a soothing salve was not supposed to smell like this. "But these buckets were untouched before we picked them up and we disinfected our hands after every time we touched the dragon. So the other option is that the batch itself was contaminated when it was brewed..." she frowned, knowing that was the more likely cause.

"This batch was made two days before the dragons got sick. I requested it as we were running out," he nearly dropped his shovel when the realisation hit him. "You cannot mean…Dagmar? I can't believe she would even consider it. And how would she get access to the disease?" he asked, stunned.

"I think we should speak to Bill. Well, once we clean up," she looked down at her ruined jeans and turtleneck.

Charlie didn't look much better himself. "How long until you have to add the next batch of ingredients to the cure?" he asked.

Hermione checked her muggle watch. "I yet have an hour and a half. Enough for a shower, get some food, and for us to check in with Bill. And we should take this salve, I want to check its contents to get proof it has been cross-contaminated," she explained.

Charlie picked up the bucket and they headed back to his cottage, tired and weary. It was now nearing four in the morning and they haven't slept yet. The moment they entered the cottage, Bill sat up on the sofa, looking about as rested as they were, and Apollo lifted his head, acknowledging them with a soft, sleepy meow.

Charlie set down the bucket and took off his shirt where he stood, the disease all over it. "We shouldn't go any further into the house in these. Let's set them down here and I'll neutralise them with potions," he suggested, summoning a plastic tub where he did some of his washing.

"That's a good idea. Please keep Apollo from coming over," Hermione asked of Bill before she began undressing on the spot.

There was no shame, they've all seen each other in swimsuits at the Burrow at one time or another, and really they just needed to get the muck off their bodies. She dropped her jumper, jeans and socks into the tub, and released her hair from the bun, the wild curls frizzy after the long day. "Am I okay to grab a quick shower first?" she asked.

"Sure, there's clean towels under the sink," Charlie nodded, shucking his own jeans without concern for modesty.

Hermione grabbed her bag and a change of clothes before heading to the shower, noticing how steadfastly Bill was looking into the fire instead of anywhere at her. Forever a gentleman. It was probably for the best. She was sweaty, frizzy and her underwear a functional sports bra and a pair of black cotton shorts, nothing glamorous to look at anyway.

She tried to be as quick as possible and managed to scrub herself clean in 15 minutes and came out in a clean long-sleeve dress that reached her knees, her feet encased in tights silent as a panther on the wooden floor. Her towel was wrapped tightly around her soaking hair like a large crown atop her head as she joined them again. Charlie, still in his boxers only got up from the sofa and headed straight into the shower after her. Hermione checked the time, glad she had about an hour left before she needed to head for the lab.

Once she was seated on the sofa next to Bill, he passed her a cup of tea and watched as Apollo jumped up into her lap to curl up with his human.

"Praawr?" he asked, butting his head into her chin.

"Yes, I'm fine. How is my handsome boy? Are you hungry?" she asked.

He purred and blinked at Bill. Hermione looked at the man beside her also. "You fed him?" she smiled gratefully.

"Of course. The little man was hungry when I got back so I made sure he was fed and had some company," he reached out and scratched the tomcat's chest which only made the part-kneazle purr louder.

"Thank you for taking care of him," she sipped her tea, relaxing her mind for two minutes before looking at the files spread out on the table. "Any progress?" she asked.

Bill sighed and picked up the two files he left on the side. "Two primary suspects. The director, for political motives, and the healer, Dagmar, she was the one who had access to everything that was to do with the health of the dragons."

Hermione nodded. "I think she messed with the salve they've been putting on the dragons. If one of them had a small wound and the generic soothing slave they put on was contaminated with the disease, it would easily take hold and begin spreading," she explained, pointing at the bucket they've left by the door. "Why though? What motive does she have?" she asked, more rhetorically rather than expecting an answer.

Bill summoned his satchel and pulled out a small vial that looked as if it were filled with nothing but clear water, but Hermione knew better. Veritaserum. "We'll have to find out. I have permission to utilise this during my investigation and I intend to," he set the small vial on the table.

"The sun rises in a few hours, you may want to get her into an interrogation room before she realises we are onto her and tries to flee," she suggested.

"I was going to take a nap for half an hour. Do you have time to do the same? I bet you could use it," he suggested.

"Sure. Do you want me to curl up in the armchair so you can stretch out?" she asked, knowing the cottage didn't have a spare room and Charlie will need a nap of his own. Plus, she was shorter and would fit better into the soft flush armchair.

Bill however shook his head and summoned a blanket, patting the seat beside him. Hermione took down her towel and quickly plaited her hair out of the way before sitting beside him and letting herself be pulled into his warm side. She fell asleep in moments, her head resting on Bill's shoulder as he held her securely into his side under the warm blanket. When Charlie came out of the shower five minutes later, he found the two snoozing comfortably huddled together.


	8. Chapter 8

As it turned out, Dagmar was gone already when they came to collect her for questioning. And so the manhunt, or rather woman-hunt began in earnest, the Romanian Aurors scouring the surrounding area and listening out for her presence in other parts of the country. She didn't use magical transport means or they would have been able to trace her magical signature and track her movement. So she had to be somewhere around, not far, where she could hide until it all blew over and then disappear forever.

Hermione left the investigation to Bill who was working with the Aurors and combing the forest, while she finally managed to finish the cure that afternoon. She made enough for all the dragons and one extra in case new cases popped up again. They also confirmed that the salve used on the dragons and brewed by Dagmar was not only cross-contaminated but actually contained the disease right from the cauldron, which was found discarded and cleverly disguised under a pile of rubbish, bearing the evidence of her treachery. Now that they could prove it was her, they needed to find out how in the world she managed to replicate the disease in modern age.

In the meantime, Charlie was grateful to have an extra pair of hands helping with the administration of the cure which has thickened to a viscous salve that could be easily spread over the affected areas locally, and mixed into the dragons' water and food to be ingested internally. They tightened the circle of carers to just four, to avoid any cross-contamination and bad practice. This way they managed to tend to a dragon in just an hour and then set up roots for monitoring. By that evening all the dragons were healing, even the most severely wounded lady, and the handlers all breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hey, how are the dragons doing? Is it working?" Bill caught up with his brother outside the hatchery.

"The cure is already working miracles. We'll even be able to save Hera, and she was quite far into the illness," Charlie said tiredly but his eyes were brighter and he seemed in a much better mood.

Bill clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Char. You saved dragon lives," he offered, always proud of him.

"I wouldn't be able to without you two," he pointed out quite rightly. "Any luck with Dagmar?" he asked, feeling the fury rise within his chest just at the thought of the woman.

"Not yet. The Aurors just switched shifts and we now have some more on foot since the nights here are so dark and they can't continue searching from their brooms. I'm going to take a nap before I join them to continue with the search in the morning," explained as they headed back towards the cottage.

When they walked in, they found an absolutely exhausted Hermione curled up in the plush, comfortable armchair, her hair damp and rising as the curls bounced back slowly. She was loosely wrapped up in the soft blanket that used to hang on the back of the sofa, and in her lap, partially covered and contentedly snoozing was Apollo. He blinked at them as they walked in and gave them a warning glare, one that only an unimpressed tomcat could give, warning them against waking his mistress.

Bill cast a quick silencing charm on her so she wouldn't hear them putter around as they quickly shared some dinner and took turns in the shower. Charlie wished his brother good night and gave him an extra blankets to cover up with as the eldest redhead tried to stretch out for the sofa that was not meant for his 6' 3" build. His head barely hit the pillow though and he was out like the light before he knew it.

* * *

_She hummed to herself, gently applying the perfume to her pulse point. Her corset was laced tightly but she loved the peach tulle that fell gracefully around her shoulders. She still couldn't believe it, they had a new Queen! And whether you were muggle or magical, this was a time for celebration._

_Victoria would set a great example for other politically-minded, strong young women and Hermione couldn't wait for their rights to become better equalled to the men's. She was lucky herself to have a husband to love her sharp mind and strong opinions._

_"Are you ready to join us for the celebrations, wife?" came a cheeky voice from behind her, and she turned in her seat to look at her husband…_

An insistent fist began pounding on the door of the cottage. Since the silencing charm has worn off, Hermione and Bill both jumped, wands aimed at the offending door. Hermione took a deep breath to calm her wildly beating heart and opened the door, hearing Charlie pad into the living room on bare feet as well.

Outside their door was one of the Aurors who were searching the woods throughout the night. It was still dark but the sky would soon be changing colour with the rising sun. They couldn't have slept longer than four or five hours and Hermione was not pleased with the interruption. That changed however with the news the man before her was bearing. "We caught her. She is locked in one of the empty offices in the headquarters. The captain suggested I speak with you and see if you have evidence for her interrogation," he bowed slightly in respect to the war heroine and the internationally recognised curse breaker, though his gaze did briefly pause on Hermione's chest where her long sleeve top dipped to reveal the curve of her breasts.

Both Hermione and Bill frowned at the cheek of the man but Bill beat her to it. "Give us an hour to compile all the evidence," he said and closed the door in the Auror's face.

"Cheeky little bugger…" he murmured just loud enough for Hermione to hear and hide a smile behind her hand before yawning widely and stretching her arms up above her head.

"I'll make some breakfast. Charlie will need to tell you about the spread of the disease at the reserve and you can provide evidence from our search," she suggested.

"Sure, if you're happy to look it over to see if anything needs to be added," he agreed but wanted her input. Hermione nodded in agreement and bent down to pick up Apollo who purred and nuzzled her cheek, watching the two men over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen.

It took them an hour to compile a clear report and timeline of events so they could question Dagmar accordingly, eat the delicious crepes Hermione made for them, and get ready to face the world. Charlie was not allowed to go with them, and perhaps it was for the best, as he was downright furious with the woman he once considered a friend. Hermione didn't have much experience with interrogation, other than what she lived through during the war and the majority was conducted on her rather than vice versa. She wasn't sure about going in but Bill seemed to know what he was doing and felt that having a woman in the room may be helpful somehow.

They nodded to the Aurors guarding the door and were let into the disused office. There were precisely two chairs and a table, and Dagmar was already sitting in one of them. She was in her thirties, a beautiful tall woman with athletic build, lovely almond-shaped eyes and blond hair pulled into a tight, severe bun. She looked calm and collected, a woman who knew what probably awaited her for her actions. And while her icy blue eyes may have once been lovely, they were flat, cold, emotionless. Hermione briefly wondered whether she was using occlumency, recognising that emotional blankness from the eyes of their potions master and double spy. But there was something, a glimmer of emotion that was being suppressed and that gave her hope that they would get through.

Bill pulled out the chair for her and Hermione sat across from the other woman with her travel mug of coffee and an equally calm facade. Bill stood behind her and opened the file they were carrying, as if reading through the content once again despite knowing them by heart.

"Dagmar Královičová, nee Kratzmar….thirty two years old, single, divorced, childless, relatively wealthy…I'm struggling to find something that could serve as potential blackmail material to make you do something like this.." Bill mused and set the file down on the table in front of Hermione.

Dagmar didn't even bat an eyelash, she just continued to look at them.

"We won't reiterate the charges you are facing. We know what you did, and for that you will be prosecuted," he continued despite her silence. "We just want to know why. Not that motive counts in the wizarding court, but we are rather curious," he mused with a half smile, as if somewhat impressed.

Dagmar raised a brow at his obvious attempt to lead her into spilling her secrets. "I don't need to talk to you," she shrugged, her accent very minute and nearly unnoticeable.

"Perhaps, but we can just get some veritaserum and get the answers anyway, so why not cooperate?" he asked simply.

"Do you think I don't know how to avoid answering under veritaserum?" she flipped back but her answer was just a bit too quick and Hermione noticed the slight quiver in her fingers before she crossed her arms over her chest to hide the tremor.

"Does it matter?" Hermione suddenly piped up, drawing the gaze of the woman before her to herself. "We will find out one way or another. And if not us, then the Aurors will for sure. Why don't you make it easier on yourself and tell us who made you do this?" she asked, changing the tone.

Instead of placing the blame all on the shoulders of the perpetrator, try to find the blame somewhere higher in a command or blackmail. They were all just pawns anyway and there was always someone higher, more powerful who made decisions behind their backs. Bill who was walking around the room leaned against the door, a little away from the women, to allow for Hermione's line of questioning to be a bit more effective. Clever. He was technically the bad male cop, and she was the good female cop that empathised with the other woman. He never thought it would actually work in the real life, and he really needed to stop watching so many muggle thrillers…

Dagmar remained silent for a long moment, just staring at Hermione and trying to decide whether to speak or not. She didn't really have much choice but at least this way she could tell the story as it was, before anyone tampered with her memories. And the brunette before her looked very honest. "I did love him once…" she began, the words barely a whisper and Hermione had to strain to hear her.

"The man who did this?" she asked, wanting to reinforce the fact that she knew there was someone else behind this.

"The man who did this," she said and lifted her shirt, showing a multitude of scars, old and newer pink ones. Her piercing icy gaze deepened and Hermione could see clearly the pain within them. So she she an occlumens as well, Hermione concluded, seeing the veil of protection drop and reveal the truth.

"Who did this to you?" she asked, calmly and quietly but instead of pity her gaze held compassion for the pain she was seeing before her in every scar.

Dagmar lowered her shirt and wrapped her arms tightly around herself, as if wishing for someone to hold her and knowing she was alone in this.

"We used to be good friends. He's very smart, charming, but he also has a wife. I didn't think about it then, it was ten years ago and I was stupid to think that having an affair would lead to him choosing me instead," she admitted.

Hermione transfigured a mug and poured some of her coffee into it, offering it to the woman. "Please have some, you must be chilled. I promise it's just coffee," she demonstrated by taking a sip herself.

Thrown by the kindness Dagmar reached for the cup and held it tightly, feeling the warmth seeping into her frozen fingers. "Thank you," she said gratefully, strangely comforted by the woman before her.

"Did you end the affair when he said he would stay with his wife?" she asked, as if she knew that scenario well herself. She nearly fooled Bill as well who looked at her curiously for a moment.

Dagmar sipped at the coffee gratefully and nodded. "So I stupidly told him that I will tell her myself. He got very angry, and decided to remind me that no one would believe me, no one would care about me and I could disappear any day without anyone noticing…" she whispered hoarsely, emotions tightening her throat.

Bill shook his head. "Charlie is my brother," he spoke up, but kept his tone gentle to not frighten her. "He always spoke very highly of you and would probably hire us to look for you and find you," he reassured, hoping the words would help her understand the lies.

Dagmar drew into herself a little but sipped the coffee for a few moments before continuing. "You don't know him like I do…." she admitted. "He could make me disappear and no one would know…he's wealthy, famous, and I was just another tourist in his country," she admitted, looking down into her cup.

Hermione shot Bill a look. A foreigner. She had a foreign, married, wealthy lover. "His country?" she asked. "Was he like a visiting diplomat?" she prompted gently.

Dagmar shook her head. "We met at a function once. He came over to see what we do and we started the affair then. I would visit him in Brussels, always traveling via muggle means to not be tracked," she explained.

Brussels. Wealthy, married, diplomatic, shrewd…..she knew several men like that but only one that would have come to Romania and had an interest in the dragon reserve. "Willems…..Lucas Willems did this to you?" she asked cautiously.

By the tears that began streaming down the woman's face, she knew they hit jackpot. "I didn't know what it was, I swear. I had no idea when I put it into the cauldron," she suddenly looked at Hermione, trying to frantically explain everything that happened. "Lucas told me we could be together, that he was going to build a better reserve in Belgium, leave his wife and we could finally be happy. He would love me again if I just dropped the vial into the salve. He said it was going to colour the dragons' scales and bring into question our competency here in Romania, so the dragons would get transferred to his country. Please, I really didn't know it was deadly!" she gripped the edge of the table tightly, her eyes pleading and nearly hysterical. "I really didn't know," she managed to say before sobs of sorrow wrecked her body.

Hermione got out of her seat and walked over, standing next to Dagmar and held her tightly as the blonde sobbed into her sweater. She knew this was the person who distributed the deadly bacteria and nearly killed eight precious, ancient dragons. This was also a woman who was physically and mentally abused, manipulated, coerced and used in an international sabotage for the purpose of a greedy, vicious man. And they now had more evidence against him, enough to get him interrogated under veritaserum. She looked at Bill and nodded for him to head off and notify the Auror department of the development and to get the warrant for arrest of one Lucas Willems. Bill bowed his head slightly in thanks for her help and slipped out of the room nearly unnoticed, knowing Hermione wouldn't leave the woman's side just yet.


	9. Chapter 9

Following Dagmar's confession, they moved swiftly and silently. Willems was arrested on the charge of international conspiracy and a list of charges pertaining to the dragons he endangered. Upon the administration of veritaserum, all his lies, his machinations and the dark side of his personality came out fully and on record,in the presence of Romanian and Belgian Aurors. United Wizarding Nations were contacted with regards to the matter as well and were taking action against the Belgian Ministry.

Bill and Hermione stayed at the reserve for a couple more days, steadily ignoring the media that was trying to get in touch with them once the whole thing leaked, and helped Charlie administer the last of the cure. Even Hera, the beautiful Chinese Fireball lady, was now healing nicely from her advanced stage of the disease.

They couldn't impose longer though, as Charlie's home was hardly made to fit more than two people at best and all three of them were quite crammed in the cottage. So they decided to find a hotel in Bucharest where their evidence hearing with the United Wizarding Nations would take place. Out of gratitude for their cooperation, the Romanian Minister of Magic also organised a ceremonial ball in their honour, where they were to be presented with the prestigious Order of Dracul, which as Charlie translated for them was the Order of the Dragon and was the equivalent of the Order of Merlin, first class. Hermione was not really one for ceremony at all but accepted that it was part of their role as British citizens in international relations, and agreed to attend with Bill.

The Ministry wouldn't allow them to pay for their own accommodation, insisting on housing them in the old part of the city in the Hilton. They only requested that they share a suite again, so they could work together on producing their report and finalising their expenses for their hired time. And their wishes were heard in the form a luxurious suite with two queen-sized rooms, walk in wardrobes, and a bathroom with both a shower stall and a large claw-foot bathtub.

"I am quite pleasantly surprised, they have been very kind to us," Hermione set down her bag and let Apollo out for a prance around the new room. He stretched his paws out one by one and walked around curiously, exploring the spacious room.

"They have indeed. Can you imagine being honoured by the British Ministry? I hear they had an honoured guest from the Spanish diplomatic court stay at the Leaky Cauldron," he mused, entertained by the difference between the two Ministries.

"No! Really? I wonder whose idea of it was to consider it an appropriate establishment," Hermione shook her head and picked up the different newspapers that were left on their table. Romanian, French and the British Digest. Very thorough indeed. The photos from the reserve, the arresting photographs of Lucas Willems and the photos of herself and Bill were across the front pages of all three. At least it will hopefully make business good...

"We should finalise the report tonight so we are prepared for the evidence hearing tomorrow," Bill suggested.

Hermione nodded and headed for her handbag. "I need to do some shopping first though. I didn't bring anything appropriate for a ball, so I want to pick something up. Do you need a suit or robes as well?" she suggested.

Bill contemplated the idea for a moment but knew he would have to wear either a full three-piece wizarding suit or robes, and didn't bring either. To be honest he could use a new addition to his wardrobe. "Lunch is on me," he pulled his coat tighter around himself, the cold Romanian autumn much different from the mild British weather.

They inquired with the magical hostess at the reception about a formal wear boutique and she gave them a little map that highlighted the Calea Victoriei, which had an entrance to the equally named magical district. With a map in hand they headed out, Hermione holding onto Bill's forearm as he so gallantly offered it. They walked into a small boutique and immediately saw where they were supposed to go, a door that was hidden under notice-me-not charms from the muggles gaining their attention. They cast some spells upon themselves to remain in the shadows and headed through the door and into a bright Autumnal day.

They walked along the cobbled street amongst the many witches and wizards shopping for their all-hallows eve celebrations at home and at school. Hermione smiled fondly at the memory of their first Halloween at Hogwarts, when she got attacked by a troll and their friendship with Harry and Ron was cemented. The smile saddened somewhat, at how far from each other their personal journeys took them in the past years.

"That appears to be the shop with robes," Bill pointed out, drawing her attention to their surroundings.

Hermione looked at the sign and nodded, the thread and scissors indication that it was so indeed. "Let's try that first. I would prefer a dress or a ball gown, so we'll see what they can offer," she suggested as they walked in. They greeted the head seamstress who picked up on their English and replied in kind. The ready made clothing was gendered so they split up to go their separate ways, giving each other some time and privacy to browse.

She was impressed with the selection they offered, some muggle dresses and gowns mixing with robes and combined designs that looked like dresses with a built in cape or trail. The Romanian fashion was of course different from British, and Hermione had to admit she liked a few pieces. She carried her choices to the ladies changing rooms and one of the assistants came with her to help her make any adjustments. Bill's choice was made rather quickly. He knew what he liked and once it was fitted to his height and measurements, he paid and sat down in the waiting area patiently. He wouldn't begrudge Hermione the time she needed. He once saw her at a Ministry function, when they were all still recovering from the battle, but she didn't shy away from showing her scars in an elegant dress that had witches whispering and wizards following her figure with their eyes. He then wondered why she didn't glamour them, knowing they would cause gossip. Now, after years of living with his own scars, he appreciated that she did not wish to hide a part of her that made her the person she was on the inside.

He got up when she came in, the assistant carrying a garment bag that would protect her purchase for travel. "You look happy with your choice," Bill offered as he joined her at the till.

"I am. Some of this fashion is more conservative than at home but there were a few great pieces," she complimented the head seamstress who seemed pleased with her foreign customers. Bill took the garment bag from her and folded it over his arm before holding the door for her.

Hermione smiled in gratitude, appreciating his manners, something Arthur had a hand in for certain. They found a little corner bistro that served a range of delicious soups and sat down for lunch. It felt like a date more so than a lunch spent between two colleagues and when Hermione looked into Bill's sparkling green eyes, she could tell that they were both enjoying this time spent together without the pressure of a case to solve.

Sadly for them though the report was not going to finish itself and they had to prepare for the hearing. So they finished their lunch and headed back to the hotel to do just that.

* * *

Hermione coaxed her wild curls to behave at least somewhat with a small handful of Moroccan argan oil, glad they weren't too fuzzy today and had enough time to dry. The hearing started at the crack of dawn and continued all the way to lunch. By the time they finished, everyone was starving and Hermione needed to get going to start getting ready for the evening ball. So they grabbed a quick lunch before apparating to their hotel.

Bill gallantly let her hog the bathroom for more than two hours while he dealt with some correspondence before heading to shower and to get ready himself. As the bathroom connected their rooms, she could hear the water running through the door to her right. Hermione tried not to think of the naked man only a few feet away from her. The brilliant, funny, devilishly smart, and handsome man that was currently naked. In the bathroom. Dear Merlin, she needed to scratch that itch, it's been too long. Resolutely she tied her bathrobe securely around her nude form before picking up the mobile phone tossed on her bed and dialling a well-known number. The call was picked up after only three rings and Grace's bubbly voice sounded in her ear, making her smile.

"Hey boss, how are the dragons?" she asked almost impatiently.

Hermione chuckled. "They're fine, international crisis is averted and we're nearly done here. And don't call me boss, I feel old."

"You ARE old, I mean your need to wear more colour, especially in your hair," Grace teased her.

Hermione snorted inelegantly. "And what colour is your hair right now, pray tell?" she asked teasingly.

There was a moment of silence before the admission came. "Pink….maybe….I admit to nothing."

She could practically hear the pout through the phone and chuckled. "I'm sure it looks great. Has the shop burnt down yet?" she asked despite knowing very well how responsible Grace was.

"Oh no, we're good. Just got the shipment of some new muggle romance novels. I will definitely be grabbing some for my own study! By the way, we have a new assistant! His name is Danny, and he's a whiz with cappuccinos! He makes these great designs with the froth," she practically beamed and then didn't stop talking about Danny and the customers for a good twenty minutes.

Hermione was grinning when she finally said goodbye to her friend and employee, glad everything was going well. The past few days have been intense. She loved autumn in Europe, maybe she could take a few days off for a long weekend somewhere like Italy or Greece, as the temperature there was still in the 20 to 28 degrees celsius range. It was now nearing five and they had only about an hour left to get ready, so she left daydreaming about a warm island and began moisturising.

She made sure to rub her favourite hibiscus lotion into her skin gently. It had a slight shimmer to it and would go well with the dress she chose for tonight. She looked at the crimson chiffon gown, and marvelled at the beautiful design. It was three-quarter sleeve with a lovely square neckline and inbuilt support in the bodice that would hug her curves and decently enhance her bust. It cut nicely in at the waist which suited her pear-shaped body, and then flowed down to the floor. She loved the beautiful trail that was attached to the shoulder seam of the dress and fell gracefully past the hem of her dress. Nothing extravagant, but it had a nice effect. All the sleeve edges and the neckline hems had Traditional Romanian motifs hand-stitched into the fabric, and they were absolutely exquisite.

She knew this was the gown for her when she saw it, a local designer who only had a few pieces in the shop but all of them breathtaking and each different. This was however the one that immediately caught her eye as it gave a nod to both their birthplace and the Romanian national colours. Even if she only ever wore it this once, it would forever remind her of this beautiful country and the mission where she got to work with the incredible magical creatures at the reserve. She stepped into it and made sure the bodice was resting where it was supposed to be before waving her wand to seal the hidden zip at the back and tighten the bodice slightly. She looked into the mirror and smiled. It fit perfectly.

Now she was wondering whether she should pull her hair up though as the curls were long and bouncy and hid the top of her dress. "What do you think, Apollo?" she asked the kitten snoozing on her pillow.

He opened one eye, yawned at her and purred. She took that as a yes, despite the fact that it probably meant 'do whatever you want with your fur, human'.

Deciding not to torture it too much but keep it contained, she pulled it into a loose but carefully managed French braid, keeping it in with a sealing charm and some mild hair lacquer. The braid ended in the middle of her back and showed off the beautiful sewing work at the shoulders and her neck. Satisfied with the effect, she put on her simple small gold hoops that hugged her earlobe, a gift from her mum on her fifteenth birthday, and gently caressed the one ring she has worn since the war on her forefinger. It was a lovely gold ring with a single round garnet, an heirloom from her dad's side of the family, the only thing she had left of him other than her memories and magical photos. They would have been proud of what she achieved, she thought. A knock on the door disrupted her fond memories and made her smile. It was time it seemed, and she was just about ready as she stepped into her black heels and grabbed her clutch. Bill was getting worried as the time neared for them to floo to the ministry and Hermione was still nowhere to be seen. Charlie was going to meet them there and would probably be waiting for them by the fireplace.

"Sorry, I was just putting on the finishing touches," her voice drew Bill's gaze and he was momentarily silent, just taking her in.

She looked beautiful, her natural beauty enhanced with minimal make-up, her plait contained but still wild in spirit, and the dress suited her shape fantastically. But most of all her eyes were bright, and freckles stood out on the bridge of her nose in contrast with her rosy cheeks. Bill could look into those eyes for days, and he knew that despite the rest of her beauty, those eyes that showed her mind and heart were what would draw his gaze for the rest of the night. "I am very fortunate to be escorting you tonight, you look splendid," he kissed her knuckles gallantly, his heightened senses picking up his favourite scent, hibiscus.

"As you look handsome," she replied in kind and reached out to gently to tuck in his tie where it was pulling out of his vest. His trousers and vest were black, but his suit jacket was made of velvet and when it moved she could see its wine red sheen. What a lovely match they made. It rarely happened to her, she most often clashed with Ginny in some way when they were seen out together, as their styles were so different, but this was indeed a happy coincidence considering the amount of press there was going to be.

"Shall we?" he lifted his arm and she placed her palm atop his as they stepped into the emerald flames and landed safely in the main lobby of the Romanian ministry. A member of staff cleaned the soot from them and provided them with directions in English before they set towards a grand hall.

It was decorated tastefully in autumnal colours now that Halloween had passed and they were greeting November today. There was already quite a crowd but it was easy to spot Charlie. He looked very nice in a grey suit but he probably would have been much more comfortable in his usual jeans. Standing beside him was another man, one Hermione hasn't met before, with unruly raven hair falling to his shoulder, which he somewhat nervously tucked behind his ear. Hermione nearly stopped when she noticed a faded scar on his forehead, before her steps quickened. It couldn't be….


	10. Chapter 10

Harry spotted her heading over and offered a sheepish smile, knowing she will be angry with him later for not telling her he would be there. For now, he steadied himself as she threw her arms around her best friend and squeezed him in the bear hug she always gave him. He didn't even care that her plait swung around and smacked him in the face. This was his best friend and he was goddamn happy to see her and feel her warmth in his arms again.

"I've missed you so much…" she whispered, squeezing him tighter for a moment.

"I missed you too. I'm sorry it's been so long, it's been….complicated…" he began but she was already pulling away, frowning at him.

"Not here and not now. Maybe later?" she suggested, as they were drawing quite a few curious gazes.

Harry nodded, relieved that she was not cross enough with him to demand answers immediately. Hermione turned back to Bill who took her hand in his and led her towards a table in the front as Charlie and Harry followed them, glad to all be seated together. The ball was opened by the Minister himself, who praised their efforts of magical cooperation and thanked them for their work to save their reserve.

"Nou I invite Miss Granger and Mr Weazley to join me," he said with a politician's smile as they got out of their seats and up on the stage to the great applause that swept the room. The Minister's wife in elegant midnight blue robes came to stand by his side with a large rectangular case that held the orders. "It is my honor tunite, to prezent yu both viz de Order of Dracul, avarded for service to Romania and its vizarding community," he picked up the beautiful gold pin in the shape of a coin, with a dragon eating its tail curled around the perimeter. An ouroboros. It was beautiful.

First he approached Hermione and gently pinned it above heart to the fabric covering her bodice, before picking up the second one and pinning it to the lapel of Bill's suit jacket. They stepped forward and bowed slightly, to show their honour at being rewarded with such an exclusive order, as etiquette dictated.

As the clapping once again died down, the Minister invited them to the dance floor to open the ball. He took Hermione's hand just as Bill offered to lead the Minister's wife, and they began a graceful waltz around the dance floor.

"You are a zplendid dancer, Miss Granger," the Minister complimented as he led her into a turn and other couples began joining them.

"Thank you, Lord Vasilescu, as are you," she returned the compliment gracefully.

Unlike many other politicians, the Romanian Minister of Magic was an honourable man and remained a perfect gentleman throughout the dance. The moment the song ended however, so did the official part of the evening and their duty as the honourees has been completed. They stepped away from each other with a small bow, and headed for their seats for the refreshments now that the ball has been opened.

Bill pulled out Hermione's chair for her and poured her a glass of the rich red wine as their food arrived. She thanked him with a smile and turned to Harry whom was surprisingly exchanging a very familiar look with Charlie.

Hermione observed them for a moment before picking up her glass and taking a sip. "How long have you been together then?" she asked softly, once Harry's attention was on her again.

He looked a bit sheepish, not really sure from her expression what she thought of the situation. "Nearly a year now. We occasionally worked together in the past but never really had a chance to talk much. That is until we moved our headquarters to Romania, to be more central to Europe," Harry admitted.

"Are you happy?" she asked gently, always wanting to know that her best friend was now living the life freely and happily after sacrificing so much when they were younger.

"Yes, very much so," Harry admitted, pushing a messy strand of the shoulder-length hair behind his ear again.

Hermione looked to Charlie who was indeed gazing fondly at his partner and had to smile. "I'm very happy for you," she reached over and squeezed his hand encouragingly.

Harry looked relieved at how well she took the news and raised a curious brow when she chuckled. "What?"

She snickered and took a sip of her wine. "Well, I guess Molly still gets to have you as part of her family, though I'm not sure this is the way she imagined it," she teased. "You haven't told her yet, have you?" she guessed.

Harry shook his head. "Not many people know yet," he admitted as they dug into their food.

From then on it was easy to get back into catching up. Hermione told him all about her business and Harry talked about living in Romania and how they were house-hunting with Charlie. Throughout the whole dinner, she felt Bill's warm presence. He shifted his chair closer and casually lay an arm around the back of her chair, encouraging her to lean subtly into his body heat. She was starting to realise their mission would soon be over and she would probably not see him again for a long time, and the thought did not sit with her well at all.

Bill for his part could not help himself. She smelled delectable, her warmth was tantalising, and the hibiscus lotion mixing with the natural scent of her skin was making him want to lower his lips and nibble the freckles he could see peaking out from her dress. All he wanted to do was ravish her, his instincts telling him to claim this woman and never let her go, but he held back. He needed to know she desired him just as much as he desired her, the sting of divorce still making him cautious.

"So how come you ended up working with Charlie in the first place?" Hermione asked, wondering what the true beginning of their journey was, now that she heard the rest of their love story.

"It was a case I was investigating that led me to the reserve, it revolved around smuggling magical creature parts," he explained, his gaze briefly flicked to Bill.

"Investigating?" she asked curiously before it suddenly clicked. Harry was investigating…they moved headquarters to Romania…he traveled a lot, just like Bill…who had a silent business partner, a detective. She pulled away and turned to look into those regretful green eyes. "So Harry is your silent business partner and you knew the whole time we were working together," she voiced her conclusion.

"In my defence, it was not my place to say anything until Harry was ready. And to this I took a vow on my honour," he explained, hoping she would not be too cross with him.

Hermione nodded and turned back to look at her best friend. "I know you have your reasons, I just wish you were ready to share this part of yourself with me earlier. I am very happy for you, I just missed my best friend," she said softly before getting up. "Please excuse me," she said and headed for the ladies room to freshen up.

Bill watched her go and sighed. He did not like to see her this way and realised he was rather deep into his feelings for her when all he wanted to do right now was pull her into his arms and hold her close for comfort.

"I'm sorry, I just wasn't ready," Harry said softly, hoping the eldest Weasley son was not angry with him too.

Bill just shook his head. "You don't have to apologise to me, just make sure to stay in her life. She should be cherished," he said before he could stop himself.

"Yes, she should be cherished, by someone worthy of her, an equal to her mind and heart. Do you know of any such man, brother?" Charlie asked, a knowing look in his eyes.

Bill growled at him for such cheek before getting up from the table and heading towards the bathrooms. He leaned against the wall outside the gentlemen's and waited patiently. Hermione didn't take long to come out from the door on the other side of the hall that was the ladies room. She still looked a bit sad but took a moment to take a deep breath and started heading for the ballroom before noticing the redhead.

"Bill, what are you doing here?" she asked, surprised that he came to wait for her.

He stepped closer and reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips. "I truly am sorry, I hope you are not cross with me for keeping Harry's secret," he kissed her knuckles in silent apology.

Hermione shook her head and squeezed the hand holding hers. "I don't, and I really am happy for him and Charlie," she stressed before her gaze was drawn to those sparkling green eyes. "I hope we'll be able to see each other more often now. And that I will perhaps see you..sometimes…for lunch, now that we're not working together," she added, hoping she wasn't too forward but really not ready to let the man slip from her life.

Bill's gaze was warm and darkened slightly as he regarded her with a different intensity. "I would like that, very much," he agreed and pushed a stray curl that escaped the plait behind her ear.

She noticed a glint of gold and saw the ring on his pinky finger that she never noticed before. And on it was a very familiar coat of arms. Hermione reached for his hand and stilled it, observing the familiar carving with a lion and swords. "What is this?" she asked.

Bill was surprised she took such an interest. "It's our family's coat of arms, it's been in the family for centuries. Why?" he asked curiously.

Hermione observed it and remembered a snippet from two of her dreams, the same coat of arms on a ring and a leather wrist band. The coat of arms on the man who was her husband and beloved in every one of her dreams… "I just recalled I saw it somewhere before," she answered truthfully but her heart fluttered within her chest. Could it be? Has she been dreaming about Bill loving her? Has it even been Bill? And were they dreams? "Shall we dance?" she asked just as a new song began, only too aware of his sharp senses observing and knowing there was something on her mind.

"If you wish," he kept a hold of her hand and led her to the dance floor where they joined the other dancers who have also finished their food.

It was another waltz and Hermione allowed herself to be drawn closer than perhaps necessary in Bill's embrace as they glided gracefully around the other couples. His hand was gentle but firm in its support on her back, and his eyes never left hers. How they didn't bump into anyone, she didn't know. What she did know was that somehow this felt very right. This, being in his arms, being this close to the man she has admittedly fallen for in the short time they've been investigating together. Was it even possible to feel so connected to someone in such a short amount of time?

She looked into his eyes and saw the way his gaze took her in, caressed her body and her mind with how far it reached into her being. She couldn't be wrong about this. Maybe there was an explanation for him being in her dreams, maybe she should do some research… For now though... for now she stepped just a little closer into his arms on the next turn and instinctively leaned her head to the side just a fraction, offering her neck to Bill's now hungry gaze.

Thankfully the song was coming to an end and Bill guided them off the dance floor gracefully, and smoothly headed for the atrium where they could floo. Hermione summoned her clutch, wondering whether they should say goodbye to Harry and Charlie, and briefly felt guilty that they didn't but then the green flames engulfed them and they arrived back to their suite at the Hilton, suddenly engulfed in the still darkness. They were not still for long though as Bill pulled her into his body once more and their lips finally met. Impatiently, demandingly, hesitantly, there was no pattern, no real rhythm at first. Their hearts were beating wildly, their teeth clashed a little as they deepened the kiss, unused to each other yet but learning quickly.

She tasted divine. Bill groaned against her lips and guided her backwards towards his bedroom. She nearly tripped on her trail but he steadied her as she kicked off her heels. His warm, solid body pressed her into the door of the bedroom and she gasped when she felt the evidence of his enjoyment. It had been too long for Hermione and she could feel how ready she was for this, how much she missed another's touch. Her nimble fingers slipped into Bill's hair and tugged him closer as they kissed with need and impatience.

There was no need for words, neither could wait to touch and feel each other, and there was no patience between them to take time. Later, they had all night if they wanted to. Right now they just needed to finally give into the tension that has been humming between them for days. Hermione swiftly divested Bill of his jacket and began working the buttons of his vest and shirt impatiently, trying to keep her focus despite the incredibly distracting lips on her neck.

Bill couldn't help himself but taste the freckles he had been longing to lick all evening. His hands were finally allowed to feel the beautiful curves that have been tantalising him for days. He chuckled at the soft triumphant sound Hermione let out when she finally managed to get through the last shirt buttons and pushed the material off his scarred body. The chuckle however turned into a groan of pleasure when her teeth teasingly nipped his perky pink nipple, small hands wasting no time in undoing the ties of his slacks and slipping into the folds of fabric to find her prize.

Hermione hummed into the kiss that was devouring her lips as she felt Bill's length, hard and heavy in her hand and firming further as she began stroking it in a teasing tempo. Bill's hips thrust into her hand in reflex before he managed to grab hold of himself and felt around for a zip on the blasted dress that separated him from naked flesh. He felt his wand leaving his pocket and a gentle caress of magic as Hermione's dress unfastened and the bodice became loose enough for him to pull it off her body. He was not prepared for the fact that she wore nothing underneath the elegant gown but a pair of lacy shorts.

Her cheeks were rosy and eyes alight with anticipation as she stepped out of the pooled fabric and wrapped her arms around Bill's neck, wanting to enjoy his skilled kisses once again. The curse breaker however had other ideas and swiftly picked her up and kicked off his shoes on the way to the large bed. He lay her down, legs still hanging off the edge of the bed and knelt on the floor between the spread thighs, tugging the last piece of clothing off her body. Without shame or shyness, he leaned down and breathed in the scent of her arousal before diving in like a man starved of sustenance.

Hermione gasped sharply, her back arching as an agile tongue circled the sensitive nub before hot lips sucked it in momentarily, sending bolts of pleasure through her nervous system. Bill wasn't holding back, a purr rising in his throat as he tasted her musky essence and dived between the velvety folds to taste her deeper. His nose inadvertently stroked the tender nub as his tongue delved into her slick channel and groaned as tense fingers slipped into his hair and tugged appreciatively at the tresses every time he rubbed her tightening walls just right. Hermione was torn between pulling Bill up and finally getting to really feel him inside her, and urging him to keep that angle as it was just. so. good.

As if reading her thoughts, Bill slipped his hands beneath her plush, dimpled bum and lifted her hips closer to his lips and conquering tongue, not willing to give up the taste of her just yet. There was nothing else to do but surrender and she allowed herself to give into his persuasion and thrust impatiently against his face. She was getting close and she needed just a bit more to get there. Bill returned to her little nub and circled it with his tongue, rubbing against the side of it just right without making it too sensitive, feeling her body starting to tighten in pleasure. He left her moist core only for a moment and with a steady but swift movement had two of his fingers buried inside the writhing witch, feeling for that elusive spot with a different texture to the silky walls. Hermione arched off the bed and took a sharp breath in as she was filled so well, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm.

She tried to get some purchase on the edge of the bed, to thrust against the fingers filling her but her foot slipped, accidentally making her press into the touch anyway and making her breath hitch nonetheless.

"Bill…I'm almost…" she whined, so close but needing more.

Bill lowered his lips to her little nub as he stroked the silky walls firmly, feeling them tightening fast. All it took was for him to suck on the sensitive bundle of nerves as he thrust his fingers just a bit harder and deeper within her, and he was rewarded with a passionate cry as Hermione undulated against his lips and hand, wrecked with a wave of pleasure. He felt her clamp around his fingers harshly and suppressed his own desire, wanting to feel her tighten around him again.

Hermione rode out her pleasure before falling back against the soft mattress, panting and letting her body catch a breath and cool off a bit. Her walls hungrily clenched once he pulled out, seeking to feel filled again and she hummed in anticipation as he leaned over her and claimed a kiss from her lips. He could taste salt from the perspiration on her upper lip, his lupine senses delighting in her primal smell and taste. Hermione chuckled against his lips, tasting herself on his tongue.

"You have a beard," she grinned, gently wiping herself off his clean shaven cheek with a thumb before licking it clean with a wink.

"Cheeky," he growled playfully and pushed her higher up on the bed so he could join her.

Hermione welcomed him into her arms. She may have just come better than she had in months, but that didn't mean she was anywhere near done or sated. She picked up her discarded wand from the bedside table and cast the necessary spells, making sure she used extra protection because her body felt this needy and hungry only once a month - when she was ovulating. Bill grinned, recognising the heat in her scent now. No wonder he has been wanting to smell and taste her all day, her body has been seducing him with its moon cycle.

"You are delicious, witch. I could taste you all day long…." he hummed against her lips before claiming them again, as their bodied pressed together intimately.

"Hmm… you don't want me to ride you then?" she asked, wrapping a lithe thigh around his hip and rubbing her moist core against his length, eliciting an approving groan from him.

Who was he to deny her?

* * *

The cold autumnal sun tickled her nose and she rolled over with a tired groan, her body deliciously sore and way too warm under the blanket with the heat of her companion's body pressed against her. She turned onto her back and pushed her messy plait out of her eyes, seeing it was falling apart after last night's activities. Bill was still dozing though he reached out with his arm, taking ahold of her side and pulled her closer, nuzzling into the soft skin of her belly contentedly. He took a deep breath and purred at their combined scent so close to his sensitive nose, falling back into a deeper sleep. Hermione smiled at him fondly, glad she had gotten up earlier during the night to pee or she would have to disturb him now for sure.

She felt deliciously sore after three rounds of lovemaking, and a bit dehydrated from the wine and exertion, but otherwise her body felt better than it had in a long time. She summoned a glass and cast a silent aguamenti, drinking it down slowly before summoning her currently favoured novel from her bedside table to read and let the redhead rest. They were in no hurry, all the paperwork was finalised and they've done their diplomatic duty last night by receiving the order and opening the ball.

A few chapters later, she was just getting into the interesting part of the plot, fingers gently carding through Bill's messy morning locks, when her tummy decided to grumble loudly in protest of no food. Bill woke up suddenly to the sound and looked at her, disoriented for a moment before realising what the sound was. Hermione shrugged, much to his amusement.

"Hungry, love?" he asked, rubbing her soft belly as he pulled himself up higher on the bed to give her a morning kiss.

"Hmmm, worked up an appetite," she admitted, not ashamed of her food carvings, especially this time of the month when she could eat a horse.

"We can order in room service?" he suggested, caressing her smooth side, following a couple of the soft silvery stretch marks with his touch, until they led him to her still damp lady garden.

She tutted and caught his hand in hers, pulling it up to her lips to kiss his palm. "I'll need a day or two to recover. Room service sounds great though," she admitted.

Bill leaned in for another kiss but broke it off soon, not wanting to make her wait too long for breakfast. "Would you mind starting the shower while I make the call?" he suggested. They could definitely freshen up, though he hoped she didn't plan to wear too much clothing, wanting to be able to smell her delicious scent.

Hermione got up and stretched languidly before heading for the bathroom that joined their rooms. Thankfully it was a modern walk-in shower that would easily accommodate them both so she set the right temperature and washed the night out of her hair and off her face, feeling the small mascara clumps clinging to the ends of her lashes. Bill joined her a few moments later, his arms wrapping around her form in a way that felt entirely too familiar and they set to wash themselves before the breakfast arrived.

They settled across from each other at the small dining table, bathrobes tied around their nude forms, Hermione's heavy hair soaking the towel turban, and the cooked breakfast making their tummies growl. She couldn't help but notice the comfortable silence between them as they settled in to eat and both picked up a different newspaper to peruse while they finished their coffee. Hermione folded the paper once she was done and got up, pouring out the left over coffee between them. Bill put the paper away and pulled her close by the pocket of her robe, letting her settle comfortably in his lap.

"Morning," she hummed and leaned in for a kiss.

"Hmmm…good morning. Feel better?" Bill asked, the brunette in his arms sure had sated his appetites earlier.

"Much. Thought I'm not looking forward to packing," she hinted, wondering what would happen now.

Bill contemplated her for a moment, his intense gaze regarding her own. "Well, we shall have to pack, maybe do some shopping because I didn't bring a swimsuit," he mused with a small grin.

"A swimsuit? Now what would you need that for?" Hermione humoured him as her fingers carded through his damp coppery locks.

"The beach….in Portugal or Spain maybe?" he suggested. "If you have a few more days to spare in your busy schedule?"

As if he had read her mind, Hermione mused. "I have until the end of the week," she agreed with a playful smile.

It appeared the fates conspired to bring this man into her life and she would enjoy every moment they had.


	11. Chapter 11

**5 YEARS LATER**

She rubbed the last of the suncream into her dimpled thighs and made sure her bikini top was tied well before getting up to adjust the towel on her seat. She felt a warm palm cup her bum before traveling up to pull her close, making her yelp as she came in contact with cold, wet swimming trunks.

Bill just chuckled and chased her around the seat until she gave in and let herself be enveloped in his arms. "Got you," he proclaimed his victory and swooped down to catch a kiss.

"Salazar, save me. Bloody Gryffindors, you'll give me a cavity," Draco drawled from his place under the large sun umbrella, his blond brow rising above the aviator sunglasses he was sporting.

"Oh please, you're so whipped," Bill snorted just as Ginny arrived from the pool as well, wringing her long hair out and pinning it up in a bun.

"Of course he is. Handcuffed too," she flipped back at her eldest brother cheekily and sat down between Draco's legs, passing him the lotion which he began working into her sun-kissed back.

"I really did not need to hear that," Harry cringed as he kicked off his flip flops and set his towel down, having just arrived by the pool to join them.

"Hey, where'd you leave Char?" Hermione asked, squirming away from Bill's tickling fingers to grab her purse.

"He's coming down in a minute, had a call from the reserve," Harry explained and took off his shirt, folding it neatly at the edge of his seat.

"Okay, next round of drinks on me, who wants what?" Hermione asked and took down their orders, roping her best friend into helping her carry them back.

As they walked towards the bar that was stationed between the four local villas, she noticed the happy glow Harry was emanating. He looked healthy, happy and in love, and finally living the life he never thought he would have.

"So, when are you going to join the married club?" Hermione asked, teasingly at first but she knew Harry always wanted to have a family and he has been with Charlie for nearly six years now.

Harry fidgeted with his pocket and looked over the cocktail menu, trying to unsuccessfully escape the question. But he could feel Hermione regarding him and knew she would figure it out eventually. "When he says yes," he murmured, knowing she wouldn't let it slide.

"So you did manage to pick a ring when you went to Goldstein's?" she asked nonchalantly, placing their order in mostly coherent Spanish.

Harry looked at her startled. "How could you possibly know about that?" he asked astonished.

Hermione chuckled. "Honestly? Pure coincidence. I was picking up some potion ingredients and saw you entering. I know you don't wear jewellery so I guessed you were looking for a special ring," she offered an encouraging smile.

Harry nodded. "I mean we've been together for a while, it's not like it's a big deal," he tried to play it off but she could tell it meant a lot to him.

"As if Charlie would say no to you," she hugged him around the shoulders and kissed his cheek. "If your heart says he's the one then you better let him know so."

Harry nodded, still a bit worried. "I was going to do it here, while we were on holiday. It's not tacky, is it?" he asked.

Hermione chuckled. "I'm sure someone will think so, but does it matter? I think it's wonderful, and I'm sure Charlie would agree. So what's it going to be?" she asked as they collected the drinks.

"I guess I'll be proposing tonight," he smiled, feeling a bit more resolute now.

They brought the drinks over to their small group and Hermione readily accepted Bill's hand, leading her to the decent-sized private pool attached to their villa. The water was beautiful, cooling off her warm skin from where she's been reading in the sun and soaking up some much needed vitamin D. It's been a busy spring and they finally all managed to pull their schedules together with a bit of Ginny's determination and Draco's luxurious tastes. They agreed to all chip in and go for a couples' holiday to have some fun in the sun and share a good laugh as a group.

Ginny chose the country and Draco took care of the rest, arguing that if he let one of them arrange the holiday, they would be 'slumming it' for two weeks. Hermione merely rolled her eyes at the time but she had to admit that their private Tenerife retreat was stunning. The villa had one suite on the grand floor and two on the first floor, and a large balcony that oversaw the sea. Naturally Gin and Draco took the largest suite and Hermione was impartial so they ended up on the ground floor. The perk of that was they could sneak out to the pool at night, and have already taken advantage of it a couple of times and utilised the small jacuzzi attached to the pool.

"Happy, Mrs. Weasley?" Bill asked as he pulled her up into his arms and slowly turned on the spot just making waves and letting her enjoy the weightless sensation of floating.

"How could I not be, husband?" she asked in turn and leaned in for a quick kiss. She still couldn't get enough of his kisses after half a decade.

The past few years have been crazy, busy, hilarious, and heart-breaking all the same. Hermione's shop picked up a lot and she decided it may be wise to distance herself from the day-to-day runnings of it. She trained Grace to take over as a manager, hired an accountant, and just checked in every week to see how the business was doing. Bill's and Harry's business was prospering as well, especially following the media reporting on their case at the Romanian dragon reserve. For a couple of years Hermione and Bill spent time between their respective apartments, with floo travel making it easy to spend time together.

Sadly, happiness sometimes tended to precede a great sadness and theirs came in the passing of Molly and Arthur. The newly rebuilt Burrow was supposed to be safe with all the additional charms, but a hurricane that hit the British isles three years ago caused structural damage. The roof caved in and killed the couple in their own bed, in their sleep. Their end was painless but the pain of their unexpected passing tore at their children. Bill and Charlie had both been absolutely inconsolable, and their partners made sure to keep them going and helped organise all the formalities to lay the couple to their rest.

No one could really face returning to the Burrow after the funeral so they agreed to let Bill as the eldest execute the wills and sell the property the family owned. The process was exhausting and while he dealt with the bank and real estate agents, Hermione stood beside him and helped him stay focused on getting through it, so they could properly grieve without the burden of bureaucracy. If was during this time that Bill asked her if she would marry him, and after making sure it wasn't a proposal born out of grief, she agreed. Once their hearts began healing, they found a lovely three-bedroom home in the Welsh valleys and moved in within the year.

Bill had no intentions of waiting to claim Hermione as his wife and mate, and their ceremony took place on a warm August afternoon nearly two years ago, their second anniversary approaching fast now. The most incredible magic happened when they were finally bonded, their magical cores reaching out for each other and a brilliant golden aura surrounding them as their souls joined. They didn't believe in soulmates but it would appear that their beings were not unknown to each other. And it did all click then for Hermione. Her dreams were not dreams at all, they were memories of past lives with this man, this soul, that belonged with hers. They managed to find a way to each other in the past and so they did in this life time. Why she remembered these snippets of her previous life, she did not know. What she did know was that she always woke up with a loving smile on her lips after remembering their bond from centuries past.

Both of them knew they belonged together, and their bond was harmonious and loving in almost every way. They had their bad days when they didn't communicate well or just wanted their own space. Every couple does and they were no exception. But the peace that settled over their beings when they were in each other's close presence was undeniable. So they took every day as it came and enjoyed the moments surrounded by their friends and family.

Charlie decided to stay closer to his family as well and was transferred to the Welsh dragon reserve to help manage its expansion. Harry agreed to move the headquarters of their company as well and so they set up anew in Wales, not far from Bill and Hermione. Living so close was of a great comfort to the two brothers and to the best friends that had spent the past few years unable to see much of each other.

At the same time a very surprising invitation landed in their mailbox, for an engagement party of one Draco Malfoy and Ginevra Weasley. This took them all by surprise, as it appeared Bill and Hermione were not the only ones grabbing life by the horns and going for it. The couple has been dating for a while, the last Malfoy Lord snatching the editor in chief up at one of the Ministry functions. They were both passionate and busy, often squabbled but quickly made up, and most of all were each other's equal in so many ways that it could only work out for the best anyway. Unlike Hermione and Bill though they took a while and only married half a year ago during a lovely Yule wedding attended by their nearest and dearest.

Bill nuzzled her cheek and took in her scent, sniffing her pulse curiously. The chlorine was really throwing him off but she smelt…different. "Are you using a new sun cream?" he asked curiously.

Hermione bit down on a smile and shook her head. "No, why?" she asked curiously.

"You smell different, but it just might be the chlorine," he mused a bit sadly, preferring the clean scent of her skin.

"Probably. Don't worry, I'll wash it all off before dinner," she promised as she slipped from his arms and stretched out in a swim.

Hermione was hoping that the change in her scent would take longer to take effect but it seemed Bill was able to sense the changes to her body already and she was only 7 weeks along. At least she had enough time until dinner to think of a creative way to tell the daddy-to-be the news.

She didn't know what life would bring. For now, all was well.


End file.
